A Beginning: The 25th Annual Hunger Games First Quarter Quell
by thenbhd
Summary: Twenty-five years ago, the rebellion collapsed along with District 13. Now, it is time for the first Quarter Quell. An unexpected twist promises Games of great significance, and the districts are yet to experience an even crueler vision of the Hunger Games. 23 will fall. 1 will rise. May the games begin.
1. Prologue

I mount the stage and the people erupt in cheers. I smile and wave and mouth thank you, because no one can actually hear over the crowd. Then, as the crowd dies down, I introduce myself as if no one knows who I am. Everyone knows, though. "Every twenty-fifth year of the Hunger Games will be a Quarter Quell. This year promises a glorified version of the games with a certain twist. This year marks the twenty-fifth anniversary of the Hunger Games, which means that it is the very first Quarter Quell." And there is the boy. Holding the wooden box and staring solmenly with his slicked-back hair. I slip out the envelope labeled _25_, and open it. "On the twenty-fifth anniversary of the Hunger Games, to remind the rebels that their children were dying because of their choice to initiate violence, every district must hold an election and vote on the tributes who will represent it." I finish. The audience gasps. "Thank you." I say. With a small wave and a closed-mouth smile, I exit the stage. The anthem pours over the speakers and you can hear the chatters of the crowd. I smile a bit: again I have outdone myself.


	2. District 1: The Reaping

_**Topaz Lexica, 17, District 1**_

I smile as I pull the thin sheet off of my bare legs, covered in little sleep shorts. District 1 is hot this time of year, another excuse to buy more and more clothing. I step into my slippers and head downstairs, where my mother is already cooking eggs. My mother is NEVER up this early. Today is reaping day. Ha! I almost laugh out loud when I remember, because of when I heard the quell announcement. If I know my district, they will choose someone who is either incapable with weapons so we can just get rid of them already, or someone who is super strong and could slice your head off with the side of your hand.

An hour and a half later, I am ready to go. All made up, with my silky caramel colored hair falling over my shoulders completely straight and shiny, my beautiful blue dress floating over me. It is too tight, but the more they see of Topaz Lexica, the better.

When I arrive at the reaping, my butt-kissers come right up to me, all nervous and stuff. A bunch a pretty girls who have no brains in their heads. I may not appear smart, but I'm actually incredibly bright. I can manipulate people so easily, I can see right through a lie, and to be honest, my test scores aren't awful at all.

The capitol idiot with dark skin and bright pink hair pulls the card from the bowl. There is one card in that entire bowl, which I think is incredibly stupid. "The votes have been casted," she says in her stupid voice. "And District 1's female tribute is..." I can't wait to see the idiot who gets picked. "Topaz Lexica."

At first I almost laugh, thinking it's someone else, then I realize it's me. I put a smile on my face and stride up to the stage.

_Fuck them. _I think._ Stupid poor losers. Finally got revenge huh? Well, we'll see who's laughing when I'm rich and living in one of those fancy homes._ Will Topaz Lexica win the Hunger Games? At this point, I don't even know anymore.

_**Rowan Fightheart**_

"Rowan Fightheart!"

Her voice booms in my ears. I was elected tribute. Before I can stop myself, the cheer comes out. "YES" I yell. I run up to the stage. I wink at a camera. "I am District 1's next victor!" I yell.

Topaz Lexica stands next to me beaming brightly. She seems pretty happy herself about being elected. If only she knew the real reason she was elected was because she was just such a bitch.

We're brought away into the justice building where I sit in a plush room, finally able to truly let out my excitement. Ethan and Claire come in and give me huge hugs.

"We're so proud of you!" Says Claire, Ethan nods. Whenever he's in happy shock, he doesn't talk.

Normally, the tributes' family and friends come to say sad goodbyes, but there's such a high chance of me coming home that my whole family, my friends are cheering me on. I, too am a victor. All I need to do is put on a show first.


	3. District 2: A Chance

_**Sheek Ploy, District 2**_

_Thwack! _First one. _Thwack!_ Another. _Thwack! Thwack! Thwack! _The arrows lodge themselves in the targets. I smile. Place the bow down on the table, stretch my arms. I pick the bow back up, shoot some more arrows. My trainer would never admit it, but I'm the best person she's probably ever trained.

I pull the arrows from where they are lodged in the targets and put them back down with the bow. "I'm going to head out, Petra." I tell my trainer. She smiles.

"Good job, Sheek. And good luck today." She says, arms crossed over her chest, which a slight smile. I smile back at her and exit the room.

My jog back home is refreshing, and I glisten with sweat by the time I reach the beautiful white house with the marble pillars. It's hot this time of year, even early in the morning. "Hey mom!" I yell, while running upstairs.

"Hi sweetheart!" I hear her yell back from the kitchen. She has gotten used to my early morning training since about two months before the reaping. I smile at the though as I run a cool bath. _The reaping_. I think. _I hope they pick me._ I'm pretty sure they'll pick me, but a little part of me thinks that maybe someone else will get picked, and I won't be able to do a single thing.

I slip into the cool bath and grab the soap. I clean myself throughly then run shampoo and conditioner through my hair. It takes a long time since two of my fingers are completely gone, but I've learned not to let it bother me.

When I am ready for the reaping, with my shoulder length hair straight, as always, and a bloodred dress that falls to my knees, I head out the door. My mom next to me. "Sheek, don't team up with them. You remember what they did to Anabeth." Of course. My mom's cousin's daughter went into the games a couple years ago. The careers were brutal that year, and just because Anabeth was the smallest career, the killed her in her sleep. My mom always tells me to stay away, because when they turn on you, they're evil. But I already know. I will avenge Ana's death. And soak up every last bit of it

I am not surprised the least bit when I hear the name, "Sheek Ploy!" echo throughout town square. I, very confidently walk up to the stage. The crowd bursts into cheers. _I don't give a damn who the male tribute is. I'll snap his neck, I swear._

_**Donaldio Merkendo**_

I walk to the reaping excitedly. I know I will be picked. I pleaded, begged people to vote for me. And now the day is here. _I will go into the Hunger Games, on the Quarter Quell, and you know what? I'll win._ I can barely contain my excitement, but I have to, for the ladies. "Hey Don!" Says a brunette, I wink, she lets out a shakey breath. Girls who are so nervous to talk to me, but I understand why.

The reapings begin without a word, and I stand in the seventeen year old section with the boys my age. The funny looking capitol escort with mint green hair announces, "Sheek Ploy!" Sheek bounces to the stage, happy as ever. _Hate that creepy bitch._ I think. _Now for the __real__ tribute, please?_

"Without further adue, District Two's male tribute for the twenty-fifth hunger games issss..." She extends her "s" as she opens the card. "Don-"

"YEAH!" I yell.

"Donaldio Merkendo." She finishes quietly. I run up to stage with my award winning smile and flip my hair out of my eyes. This dirves some of the girls crazy. I wink at the camera and one girl even screams.

The justice building is plush. A soft, blue velvet couch is where I sit. My parents and sixteen of my siblings come in. Then I notice that Linnea isn't with them. They all hug and congratulate me and I tell them that I love them and that I won't let them down and I'll make them proud in the arena. They exit. Linnea comes in. Fifteen, me and her being the oldest of the the Merkendos. Her beautiful face looks sad. "Don," she says. I know from her tone that she isn't happy.

"Linnea I asked them to pick me. It's okay, I'll win" I say. She didn't have to say anything for me to know.

"I know, Don. But there's always-always a chance that...you know."

"Linnea, I need you to know that there's also a chance that in a few weeks, I could be right back here in District 2." She hugs me.

"I know, and I love you, Donaldio." She whispers into my ear. Her soft hair brushes the side of my face. She slips something into my hand and exits the room before the Peacekeepers can escort her out.

"I love you too." I whisper into the air.

**Yay, yay, yay! District two reapings are up and District three will arrive shortly, even though there's only one tribute! I decided that even though Cerise Kersa Daly goes in the bloodbath, that I'll give her full attention before the games. The rest of the un-filled tributes are bloodbaths, and won't matter, won't get a POV.**


	4. District 3: Fools and Foes

_**Gena Rouge, 18, District 3**_

There are two types of people. Fools and huge fools. I do not know which category I fall into. I don't know anything, really. All I know is that there are two types of people, and that the Capitol wants my body. But they want it dead and cold, bled white and powerless, lifeless. The Capitol are among those who fall into the big fools, because they know I did it, but they don't have the evidence to prove it.

I sit on the edge of my bed, face in my hands. I don't realize it until Darcy comes up to me. "Ya okay, Gen?" She asks, in her sweet voice.

"Um-yeah. Just thinking."

"Alrighty. Better get dressed, the reaping is in an hour and a half." She says.

"Okay, thanks." Darcy is one of my guardians here at the town orphanage. The Capitol gives some money to the district, who uses it to pay Darcy and all of our other guardians. Darcy is already from a town family, and the district gives her good pay, so she is among the upper class of the district. I'd really expect someone of her status to be a real snob, but she isn't. She is the only guardian who likes me. All of the rest hate me for what I have done.

The square is packed. A cold day. I am wearing a sleeveless dress, but I feel that the cold has no effect on me. Almost nothing does. "Excuse me, persons of District Three! Excuse me!" Says the escort, who has brilliant purple hair with silver glitter in what seems like every piece of it. The crowd is loud and soon dies down. Dies. I smile when I think of the word. Just like the eight of them at my orphanage. Dead.

They do the stupid reading, which no one cares about. The story of how Panem became, how the Districts held an uprising, how each and every one was shamefully defeated, how the thirteenth was bombed and burnt to piles of ash and ruins. And then how the Hunger Games began-the Treaty of Treason.

"The votes have been casted and..." she extends the word "and" too long and I just want to slap her silly and tell her to read the goddamn name. "District Three's female tribute is..." Come on you stupid grape haired loser. "Gena Rouge!"

My district couldn't have picked me, no one knows me. Everyone ignores the orphanage kids. I knew better. This was no majority rule vote. This was the Capitol finally getting me back. Those mega-fools didn't have any evidence, but damn did they have power.

_**Fernando Sasquilla, 18**_

I get used to it. The endless hate that comes my way. The cutting words and evil remarks. I also get used to ignoring it, because it'll happen no matter what. From all of this, I learned something important, don't let it get to me. Everyone in my district hates unique people. Everyone in this whole damn country hates unique people. Except for the Capitol. There, it's okay to be gay, but here, you can't walk half a block down the street without someone calling you a faggot.

I sit on my porch drinking coffee, watching the sunrise. The only person in the world who I love and understand comes up and sits next to me, Lola. Lola is my best friend. She accepts me no matter what and we solve each other's problems. "Hey, Fernando." She says.

"Hi Lola."

"Whatsa matter?"

"I think everyone in the entire district voted for me. " This sends her into a laugh riot. She laughs for minutes, gasping her breath and wiping tears from her eyes. I do not understand what is so funny, but Lola is so hysterical, I can't stop the smile from forming onto my lips. "What?" I ask, trying to wipe away the grin on my face.

"Please, Fernando, you haven't even met like, half of District 3." She says, putting extra emphasis on the word, "half"

"Okay, but when I go to the Capitol I'm expecting you to sponsor me!" I joke.

"Alright, would you rather have medicine, food or weapons?" We both laugh. We mostly joke around about the whole Hunger Games thing or our situation with the Capitol. It's absolutely ridiculous. The alternitive is to live in fear, but Lola and I believe we're here for a different purpose than hiding in a corner.

"Nice dress." I say.

"Ugh."

"What?"

"My mom picked up this ugly thing. You really like it?" She asks.

"Would I lie to you, Lola?" I ask, smirking.

"Probably." She says, nodding. I give her a mean smile.

"I'm gonna go get ready. Stay right here!" I say. I take the mug inside and place it on the kitchen counter. I go upstairs to wash my hair and brush my teeth and dress. When I come back down, Lola is asleep. "_They're coming for you..."_ I whisper in a creepy voice. She jerks up.

"Holy shit, Fernando!" she says.

"Eh-heh-hem! Profane language!"

"Sorry, mister officer." We're off to the reaping. I wave goodbye to Lola once we reach town square, which bursts at the seam with people. I stand in my section, far away from any of the other gross eighteens in our district.

The escort silences everyone. She calls out the name Gena Rouge. The name is slightly familiar when I realize who it is. I feel awful for Gena, because she is from the orphanage, and people in our district are so horrible to the Orphanage kids. Throw stuff at them, call then awful names, ignore them, hurt them, bump into them "accidentally" at school. I've seen it all happen.

I am snapped out of my sympathy coma when I hear the name "Fernando Sasquilla" echo over town square. I'm remarkably not shocked, scared, or rule by fear. I blink a few times, shrug, and walk up to the stage. I'd rather have someone who doesn't know me kill me than someone who hates my guts because of what I believe. They don't deserve to kill me, they just don't.

Lola hands me her beloved necklace in the Justice Building. I almost can't accept it, but I know that he won't take it back. So I latch it around my neck. "I promise-no, I swear. I'll wear this to the arena and I'll fight for you, for the both of us. You'll live in Victor's Village with me, Lola." She is crying, and she can't help but smile. She nods and walks out before the peacekeepers can come and grab her. This is not the last time I will see Lola.

**Hey guys! I love this reaping. The reapings are actually extremely boring to write! So I think I'm going to finish them off in a Capitol viewer's point of view. Also, a good writer loves some constructive criticism! So please leave a review or PM me what you think, your favorite character so far, anything about the story as well as suggestions. I'm posting the sponsor system after the reapings are done, and all of the alliances, romances, and even a few of the deaths have been established. I know I usually post every day, and I'm sorry I haven't updated in two days, but I saw The Vow on Friday with my friends (which was awful, so don't waste your money), and yesterday was my first day of February break, so me and my friends chilled and read Hunger Games humor Fanfic...well, lol you don't need an update on my life. That was a ginormous run on...**

**P.S. During the actual games part, I'm going to start each chapter with a quote**


	5. Reaping ReCap, Celestia Alexandria

_**Celestia Alexandria, 21, Capitol**_

"Sale at Lipstick Jungle for 20% off all-" I slam my palm onto the alarm and groan. I hate waking up before, 10:00, but if I want to catch the reapings, I'm left with pretty much no choice. I slip my pedicured feet out from under the warm comforter and step onto the cold hardwood floor. I brush my teeth, walk into the spacious den of my loft, and click the television onto channel 2.

Morgan Ray is doing the intro. "And now, on to the reapings. Starting with District One!" He yells. District One has a dense-and wealthy-population. They don't prosper like us in the Capitol, but they make enough money to afford luxuries and train for the Hunger Games. I heard that the trbiutes from 1, 2, and 4 were called Career tributes in all districts besides their own.

A quite pretty girl is called up to the stage. She has shiny caramel colored hair that tumbles over her shoulders and she strides up with a confident beam on her face. Topaz Lexica is her name. I think I may place my money on her.

Next they call up Rowan Fightheart, whose name matches his appearance. He is quite brutish and definitely looks like a contender. He is obviously one of the Career Tributes. He also takes pride in his name being called, beaming and yelling, "Yeah!" into the air.

During the commercial break before District Two, I brew myself some coffee, and hear the full Lipstick Jungle commerical that I interrupted before. I take a sip of the silky coffee and return to my seat on the plush couch just in time to here Morgan Ray's, "Welcome back! And now continuing to District Two!"

District Two are also definite careers. A girl with long blonde hair and a wicked smile takes her place on stage, introduced as Sheek Ploy. She has two fingers missing which makes me cringe. I can't help but notice the undying smirk on her face. She stares into the audience as if they were stupid children and she was far above them.

The boy is quite attractive, to say the least. Donaldio Merkendo. He will not fall short of sponsors with those awe-worthy looks. He flashes a bright smile and I'm sure I hear some girls scream. I even hear one say, "Donaldio, you are so hot!" He is quite a looker, but I wouldn't ever scream out something so foolish. Some district girls can be so dumb.

After another commercial break, Morgan then introduces District Three. With the exception of District Four, Districts from three on are mostly a bunch of underfed poor kids who perish at the annual Bloodbath at the hands of a Career tribute.

The girl is sad looking, with pale skin, dark hair, and dark eyes. Gena Rouge is her name. She walks up to the stage with her fragile figure and I do not understand why the district would pick this poor girl.

The boy does not look the least bit scared. His name is Fernando Sasquilla and he is very tall. He has quite good taste, dressed very nicely for the occasion. He is someone I will look into...definitely very interesing.

**So their you have it! Reaping re-caps. I will use Celestia to get a better view of how the tributes appear and how they are supposed to appear so that my readers can get to know them a little better. I decided not to do the original Capitol citizen idea, because I feel like with the Capitol citizen's views you can see how the tribute really looks, as oppose to how they think they look. I am still going with the original reaping's from first person idea because I think it reaches more into the depths of their lives. (For example, Celestia can't tell that Gena is really a murderer from how she looks, she just thinks that Gena is a small girl).**


	6. District 4: The Outcasts

_**Lilly Andreckson, 14, District 4**_

I wouldn't say that I'm a lot like any of the other girls in my district...I'm different. My grandfather helped lead the rebellion. Unlike most in District Four, he believed that the people still had a voice...he was wrong. He should have known that the once great country called the United States was gone from the moment it was reestablished as Panem.

I first believed that maybe there was still hope, like he had. Eventually, though, the truth sank in. I really tried to keep my grandfather a secret, but I couldn't stop the word on the street...people found out soon enough. Now people bark at me, call me a stupid girl, but somehow I'm remarkably proud. It doesn't hurt at all, it kind of makes me feel better than everyone.

I'm sure it doesn't make sense to most people. Insults make me happy, but like I said, I'm different than everyone else in my district. The people in my district are pretty much everyone to me-I've never met anyone else, so that only makes people hate me more.

Today is the reapings, and after the Quell announcment, I realized that I was in true danger. My grandfather was part of the reason that we have these games in the first place, so this is how my district is going to get revenge. _Calm down, Lilly._ I would tell myself, but it didn't help me...the thoughts just kept coming back.

So here I stand in town square, mind filled with worries when I calm myself down for the final time. It almost works..._almost_.

"Lilly Andreckson?" I try to move but the words, syllables, letters just boom in my ears over and over again, along with the never-ending ringing. I slowly make my way up to the stage, but with every step I feel as if someone just punched me in the gut over and over again.

_This is what it feels like. This is what fear feels like._

_**Blake Devon, 16**_

I was never a people person. I've known that from the moment I stepped into private school. I don't know if it was me or them, but other people and I never really clicked. It doesn't really matter, though. In school I usually end up pairing up with whoever's left. Training is a different story though, it's even worse to not talk than it is to talk. I try to make small talk, but everything that comes out of my mouth sounds either rude, odd, awkward, weird, or just downright mean. Talking and socializing and all of that was never really my thing, therefore, people have made up reasons not to like me.

I fasten my tie then head out with my family into town square. I step into the sixteens section and give a few curt nods: I get mostly glares in return. The Capitol escort, Delphina, shushes everyone. "Ladies first!" She chirps. She carefully places two fingers around the single card and pulls it open with her delicate fingers, carefull not to rip it. "The votes have been casted...and Lilly Andreckson will be the female tribute representing District Four!" She calls out. The audience falls hush and no one begins to walk up. "Lilly Andreckson?" She says again.

I find the girl in the crowd. I recognize the face. An outcast like me. Her eyes are big and she takes a big swallow before stepping up. The audience whispers and I can barely make out what they're saying.

"_Her grandfather was..."_

"_She's related to..."_

Something contreversial about her...I guess. The audience falls silent again as the loud clank of the escort's heels make their way across the stage to the boy's bowl. "The polls show that mister...Blake Devon will be District Four's male tribute!" She squeals.

_Oh shit. Welcome to hell, Blake. Welcome._

**Hey guys! This chapter wasn't as good as I had hoped, but I thought it was okay...anyway, I'm sorry for all of the major changes I've been making lately. It's really hard to make an SYOT! Anyway, as you saw in the previous chapter, I've made some of my own tributes to fill the empty spaces. Caspian, Preston, Payton and Leo. If you would, can a few of you give Caspian, Preston, Payton, or Leo an appearance and a personality? That would be really nice. And what do you think of the name Caspian? I love it! Thanks for reading and for putting up with all of my annoying updates! District Five will be up as soon as someone adopts Caspian and shakes him up a little...**


	7. District 5: Always Moving Forward

_**Dawn Swift, 14, District 5**_

Reapings make pretty much everyone in the district a nervous wreck. Especially now, because of the whole election thing. People are ripping their hair out, worried about being chosen. Honestly, I'm not so worried about being chosen. Everyone just turns a blind eye to me. Even if I was, I know how to hunt, so it couldn't be that hard, right?

Wrong. All of it is wrong. Because once you're standing in town square, all of your past thoughts and opinions and whatever are gone and you're just hoping that the escort doesn't say your name. I'm watching her closely, the lady with bright pink hair. "Now, shall we get started?" I don't know what to think, yes so we can get over with it, no so I don't have to worry about it. _Okay, you know what? Just get it over with. It's not like she's going to-_"Dawn Swift!"-_say my name._

It's a good thing I know how to hide my emotions, because right now I would scream and my eyes would go huge. Instead, I'm confidently striding to the stage, waiting for someone else's name to be called.

I skim the crowd for Blake. _Please don't pick him. Please don't pick him._ Is all I can think. They don't pick him.

I'm escorted off to the Justice Building, where my friends and family will visit me. When Jordana and Blake come in, I almost faint. Blake opens his arms and I don't hesitate a second to run into them. "It's gonna be alright." He whispers into my hair. My heart flutters. Jordana is sitting in the corner crying, so I figure this is the right time.

"I like you, Blake. I've liked you for a long time, and if I die in there, I don't want to die without you knowing." He smiles and kisses me on the cheek, which makes my stomach jump.

"I like you too, Dawn." This time, I smile. "You can do this. I know you can." He says.

I go to Jordana in the corner, "Please Jor, don't cry." She looks up and gives me a hug.

"Dawn, please try to win this for me. You can do it! You can win!" I smile, but I'm broken because I don't want to leave her behind.

Then my father and my sister come in. "You're off work?" I ask him.

"For you? Of course. Honey, I know you, and you're a fighter. Try to get out of there, okay?" He says.

"Dad, there are careers. People have been training for years. You saw what the boy from 4 with his trident did last year! He didn't just become a master with it in three days!" I say. I hate to admit it to myself, but it's true. "Just, please take care of her. Iris needs you." He nods.

"They chose you because you're strong." says Iris as she heads out. I smile at her.

"Take care, kiddo." I say.

The only way to go is forward.

_**Caspian Bentley, 13**_

The square is hot and the sun is shining, so I find myself squinting to see. The escort sits on the edge of her chair, waiting for the hour to come. _One minute._ I think. _You can't start one minute early?_

When the hour finally comes along, the escort pops up out of her seat. "Welcome everyone! Happy Hunger Games!" She shouts. _Yeah, real happy._ She starts by placing a fancy fingernail into the girls' bowl. She takes out the card and opens it. "Our tribute, Dawn Swift!" she says with excitement. The girl walks confidently to the stage. "And now for our male tribute..." her heels click as she makes her way to the stage.

_This is it. This is it, for real._ _Don't say Caspian Bentley, please._ "Caspian Bentley!" I guess my begging didn't work, because that's my name.

In the Justice Building, James keeps going on and on and on. "And you'll kill her, too!"

"James, I can't kill my district partner, it's like...like telling your mom that you hate her. And I think you've got your hopes a little high. I'm thirteen, probably everyone in the arena is older than me." I say. He frowns.

"Can't you try? Please Caspian?" He says.

"Fine. But I'm not killing my district partner!"

"Yeah, I know. I better leave before one of the peacekeepers grabs me. Good luck, Caspian." He says. My best friend. Gone forever...or not.

My parents and Suzzanne come next. My dad looks me in the eyes, and I know he's serious.

"Listen to me, Caspian, I don't care what you have to do to get home. Kill whoever...do anything just please come home, son." He says

"Peter! You don't want to turn your son into a monster!"

"Lucy, do you want Caspian to come home?" My mom stays quiet after he says that. She knows that there's only one way to survive these games: kill or be killed.

Ignoring them, Suzzanne speaks. "Caspian, you can win. I know you can. You have it in you, so please try." She says. I smile. She slips her charm bracelet onto my wrist. It's kind of girly, but it means a lot to her, and if it's important to her, then it's important to me.

I'm whisked off to the train station and I know there's no going back.

This is it.


	8. District 6: Oh, Siblings

_**Kat Nelson, 15, District 6**_

I slip out of bed silently and dress for the stupid reaping. I slip a white cami on under the sheer white blouse and tuck the blouse into a poufy black skirt. I hate clothes, so I always let my prissy older sister pick out my outfits, but I chose this myself. Whenever I choose something, I always here Anastasia's high pitched, nasaly voice say, "Seriously? You were gonna leave the house in that?" I don't see why she puts so much effort into looking good. It's not like we can afford that much anyway. The most luxurious thing in this house is shampoo, but she always insists on buying makeup and jewelry even though she knows what my mom will say: no.

I run a brush through my glossy dark brown hair and slip a white flower clip in. I look in the mirror and realize that I actually look stunning. I'm actually very pretty, but I just don't see the need to be pretty when your _this_ close to starving...unlike someone I know who would rather wear lipstick than have dinner. "Kat, we better go if you want to make it on time!" my dad calls. I walk down the stairs and look at the front mat, which holds shoes for all of us. I'm guessing I'll be wearing the strappy black sandals, because Anastasia couldn't fit into those anymore.

Speak of the devil, she comes out from the kitchen applying a layer of pale pink lipgloss. She gasps. "Katerina! You finally put that beauty to good use and wore something decent, huh?" she says, sounding proud because I got dressed myself. I roll my eyes.

Of course, she looks stunning as ever. She wears a blush colored blouse dress with a shiny, thick black belt. She slips her feet into straw wedge heels with black straps to hold her feet. _One day, I'll wear that to my reaping, _I think.

Mike and Ava are bickering about something. Ava also looks astonishing, her smooth golden hair is pushed back by a headband so you can really see her beautiful green eyes. Anastasia breaks into their fight, obviously not caring what the heck they were saying. "Mike, you are not wearing sneakers to the reaping! Change! Now!" she says. Mike obeys and puts the fancy-occasion shoes on.

Lucy walks in with her hands over her ears and lets out a huge scream. "You guys are giving me a headache!" she says. I find this hilarious and can't help but burst out laughing. Everyone looks at me, including Lewis who I didn't even know came in.

Mom opens the front door a crack from the outside and peeks her head in, "Come on, guys. We have to go now!" She says. With that, everyone walks out.

As we walk, I recieve mean looks from many people. Other children, parents, everyone. All of my siblings have some sort of trait that makes them super loveable. Lucy is adorable, Ava is a quiet angel, Mike is an incredible athlete, Lewis is super smart, and Anastiasia is super pretty. I've got none of those things. Not a thing about me makes me very likeable.

I step under the rope of the fourteen year old section when we arrive, even though I'll be fifteen in a little over a week. I don't give anyone around me a single curt nod or even acknowledge them. They all hate me for some reason or another.

The mayor gets the ball rolling with a whole speech on the Dark Days and the reading of the Treaty of Treason. The escort then bounces to the stage. "Ladies first!" she squeals. She peels open the card with her grotesque nails and reads without hesitation. "Our female tribute, miss Katerina Nelson!"

_Holy shit_.

My face and heart sink and I make my way up to the stage. When the audience sees my face, they all look down trying to hide their guilt and regret.

_Yeah, make 'em pay. _ I think._ They're the only reason you're up here._

Are they?

_**Blaze Reiner, 15**_

I make my way to the reapings with Nikki. I wink at a couple of girls and they giggle. "You guys voted for me, right?" I say in smooth voice. They nod their heads, trying to cover up their blushes and smiles. Nikki rolls her eyes but is hiding a smile

"What?" I ask, her smile turns to a smirk.

"Manipulating people again?" She asks.

"Yes, but I call it 'charming' them." Nikki laughs. When we reach town square I wave goodbye. "Don't forget to visit me in the Justice Building!" I yell. She nods and files off into the girls' section for fifteens. I go into the boys' section of fifteens.

The mayor reads the whole big story of Panem thing and I find Nicki in her section, picking her nails and I almost laugh out loud.

Our heavily groomed escort uses her decorated fingernails to pick open the girls' card. "Katerina Nelson!" She calls out. A sad looking girl with wavy dark brown hair makes her way to the stage. "Call me Kat." she says. The escort nods.

"And now for our male tribute, mister Blaze Reiner!" She says. I let out a sigh of relief, which makes some people turn to me with confused looks on their faces. I confidently stride up to the stage, beaming brightly and waving to some of the people who are staring at me.

When I finally get up to the stage, I am told to shake hands with Kat. She looks at me with these sad, very dark brown eyes and I realize how pretty she is. I smile at her and she tries to smile back but she just looks defeated.

I'm taken into the Justice Building where my family comes in. Garret just pats me on the back and says good luck. Nich looks at me with sad eyes and says, "Please don't die." I laugh.

"I'm not gonna die, Nich. I'm trained like the Career kids." I reply. Augusta speaks up next.

"Good luck Blaze, and I hate to admit it, but I'll miss you over the next few weeks. Can I live with you when you win?" she asks. I roll my eyes.

"Gee, Augusta. I love you too." I say mockingly. She justs shrugs and runs her fingers along the leather ottoman that she sits on.

"Blazey playing games?" Minnie asks. She plops onto the carpet and I can't help but smile.

"Yes I am." I say back.

"Blaze, I'm proud of you son." My dad says, her puts his hand on my shoulder, my smile fades and turns into a cold expression. It's a good thing the Peacekeepers come in to get them, because I can't stand my dad.

Nicki comes in. "Good luck, Blaze. Here's your district token. You're allowed to take it with you to the arena." She says. She places a ring in my hand. It's a silver wraparound ring. A snake with red eyes. "Okay, make some allies. Maybe even team up with the careers. Remember you can manipulate people really well so don't hesitate to. You need to get your hands on a club because that's your best bet if you really want to win this thing. And-"

"Miss Casie, you're time is up." A peacekeeper says in a solemn voice.

"Shut up, dipshit." She says, and continues speaking to me. The Peacekeeper comes in to the room along with another Peacekeeper and they are about to grab Nikki when she snaps, "I know how to walk, you fools! Bye Blaze. Good luck."

And then she's gone.


	9. Recap 2

_**Celestia Alexandria, 21, Capitol**_

The reapings are back, finally. Morgan Ray introduces District Four. Yay, careers. District Four is a rich district, so the tributes will definitely be trained.

The two tributes are definite opposites. The girl, Lilly Andreckson is incredibly gorgeous, with long, shiny black hair and bright blue eyes. The boy, Blake Devon, is not especially attractive but is far from ugly. They shake hands, then the reaping ends and there's another commercial break.

Not the expected careers, but I shouldn't underestimate them-the girl who won last year was a small five feet, two inches.

District Five is pretty typical. I wasn't expecting some tall, trained athletes, but you think maybe the poor districts would choose their strong. The girl is named Dawn Swift and has long red hair. She may have something going, though. She has a menacing look in her eyes. The boy is named Caspian. He is young, but good looking enough to win sponsors. He actually looks well fed and has a little bit of muscle. Who knew?

Now onto District Six. Kat Nelson, the female tribute is stunning. She looks shocked and makes her way up to the stage, glaring at the audience. Blaze Reiner looks happy about being picked, and winks at a couple of girls who giggle. Something about his eyes makes him so attractive. Maybe I should get my eyes that color.


	10. District 7: The Sob Stories

_**Sybil Jones, 15, District 7**_

The orphanage is cold and lonely. I would rather not live here, but I don't have much choice. The children here all keep to themselves and don't like to talk to other people. That works just fine with me, because I'm too shy to talk to any of them anway.

Today is the day of the reaping. I lay awake in my bed dreading it, wanting to continually push it forward or pretend it didn't exist. Eventually, I place my small feet on the creaky, chilly floor and force myself up.

The one thing about the reaping that isn't entirely bad is that we get to dress well. I slip on a blush pink blouse and tuck it into a white lace skirt. I run a brush through my shiny brown hair and put it into a bun.

From the empty bed beside mine, I suspect Marigold is already downstairs eating breakfast. I make my way down the wood stairs, stepping slowly so that they don't make a sound. I see the bright blonde hair and the blue dress and know that it's her.

The pretty girl turns around. She smiles when she sees me. Then, I notice Koby sitting behind her, also looking at me and I smile back at.

"Nice outfit, Sybil." Koby says.

"Oh, thanks. You too." I reply, blushing. He's really cute.

Marigold tucks the loose strands of hair from her braid behind her ears, turns back around and continues eating. I sit down at the table and help myself to a roll of tough bread. I don't realize I'm picking at it until Mari chimes in.

"Nervous?" She asks, taking a sip of water.

"Maybe a little, you never know." I say. She shrugs and continues drinking. I finish the roll, and although it was so small, I feel a weight at the bottom of my stomach.

Yup, I'm nervous.

I'm standing next to Mari in town square, holding hands with her, probably cutting off her circulation. The capitol woman with orangey skin announces, "Ladies first!" in a silly accent. The crowd falls silent, so silent that you can hear each person take in a single collective breath. I want to tell them to shut up, that being in the Orphanage gives us a higher chance than them. Our escort, Collette, uses her delicate fingers to open the card. "District Seven, your voters chose Ms. Sybil Jones as your female tribute!"

And this time Mari's hand gets tight.

I know now that I have to let her go. This makes me numb.

Then I see my opponent, and feeling comes back. Not a good feeling.

_**Allistair Winston, 18**_

Santiego is apparently telling Johnny a real funny story, judging by the way John's laughing, but all I can think about is the reaping.

My chances of being chosen are high, being from the bad part of the district and all, but I'm also real disastrous, and I'm definitely not the most loved person in District Seven. I know I'm in danger, but there's no way to protect myself.

There's also a chance that I won't get chosen, but that only means someone that I know will. If there was anyone District Seven wanted to get rid of, they would be from my part of the district.

"Um, Al?" Johnny aks. This catches me off guard and I snap back.

"Oh-uh, yeah?" I reply quickly.

"We'll seeya at two, okay?" He says, I nod.

I walk back home still thinking about who will get chosen and what their chances are. When I walk into my aunts house, I find that she's still asleep. I throw a stack of her dirty clothes at her and she rolls over. She rubs her eyes. Yawning, she asks, "What time is it?" I rolls my eyes.

"1:15, get ready, now." I say demandingly. She doesn't question. She gets up and searches the room for something clean. She never washes her clothes and it's disgusting.

It's about two when we reach the square. It's crowded with residents who smell of pine trees and have calloused hands from years of taking down trees. The Capitol woman consistantly checks her watch, and exactly at two, she shushes the crowd of nervous children and concerned parents.

She announces the name of a girl who I've never heard of, and then she moves onto the boys. _You're gonna be disappointed anyway, so don't even think about it._

"Mister Allistair Winston!"

Disappointed I am. I mutter obscenities under my breath and cross my arms, walking to the stage in an intimidating demeanor. My district partner looks fearful as I get up to the stage. Good.

I get a much expected visit from Johnny and Santiego, but when Parvarti comes in, I'm disgruntled. We sit for a few seconds just doing nothing, looking down at our hands when she pipes up. "I was not expecting this to happen." She says with a breathy laugh.

"I was. No one likes me anyway." She lifts her head to look me in the eye.

"What about Johnny, Santiego, your sister, Rala. And me, too." This catches me off guard. Since when did she like me? She broke up with me and I still want her back, but she doesn't seem interested.

"Yeah, but I mean the district. Can I...maybe, ask you something?"

"Shoot."

"Can you please take care of Rala? If I'm gonna die I don't want her raised by that selfish slob."

"Deal. I like her, your sister. She's so sweet. Makes me smile."

The peacekeepers come and she silently exits, but she stops in the door frame and swings her long, glossy, dark brown hair over her shoulder as she turns to me. "I know I broke up with you, but I still like you, Al." She says. I smile.

"Me too."

When Rala comes in with her rosy cheeks and pretty eyes, I can't take it. If there's one thing I hate, it's to see her unhappy. I try to make her life as normal as it can be, but in a life like this, it's nearly impossible.

I lift up the small, pretty girl and set her on my lap, putting my face into her soft blonde curls. We sit like this for a minute until I lift up my head, I look her in the eyes and speak. "You're going to stay with Parvarti. She'll take care of you, I promise."

"I'll miss you though!" She says. Tears start trickling down her face and this threatens to send some down my face, too. She digs into her pocket and hends me a folded up piece of paper. I open it up and see that she drew a few little flowers. "Please take it with you!" She asks.

"I promise."

The Peacekeepers arrive and begin to come over to get her. "DON'T YOU DARE TOUCH HER." I yell. They back away. "I love you, Rala."

"I love you too, Allistair." She says.

I can't shake off the thought that I may never hear her sweet voice ever again.


	11. District 8: The Winners

_**Knives Lawrence, 16, District 8**_

I like to think of the world as my playground. Other people are my toys.

Today is the reaping, and I hope I get picked as the tribute. Most people in District Eight are such losers. They are so afraid of the Hunger Games and have no idea why. I would volunteer for someone, but I don't want anyone to actually think that I cared about them, so this is a good chance for me.

Some people think I'm creepy or whatever, but I don't like people anyway and it doesn't hurt me beause I don't have feelings. If they could just learn to keep their mouths shut then they would probably be a lot more like me. I guess I haven't always been like this. I live in the community home, I have since I was dropped on the steps as a baby. Life without parents but with people like _this_ made me incredibly unhappy. Then, I learned that instead of acting like a brat who's always upset, I could instead be angry, fierce, and violent. This has worked out well for me.

I put my hair up in a bun and put two knives through it, in criss-cross style. I love knives. I love them so much that when I was old enough to talk, I insisted to be called that. I slip on the indigo dress with spaghetti straps. It hugs my curves, this may give me and excuse to beat up some guys if they try to call me hot.

And now favorite. My big, clunky black boots that go a little above my ankle. I lace them up and tie them together. Ready.

The square is hot and I don't like it. I try to stay as pale as possible because it makes me look even creepier, but the second I get in the sun, my skin turns darker. This looks much more natural and I hate it.

A boy whistles as me and I smirk and walk over to him. I guess he was expecting me to flirt with him, so he smiles. Then I clench my hands into a fist and punch him in the jaw. He raises his hand to his jaw and is about to look up to me, but I'm already walking away. Fools 'em every time.

And now finally the reaping starts. A woman with bright yellow hair blabs about pointless crap before announcing, "Now lets get on to the names, shall we?" _Yes._ She opens the slip of paper. _Come on. _She pulls it apart: "Knives Lawrence?"

I smile.

So much fun.

_**Aldo Rainn, 15**_

I know I'm not supposed to, but I told people to choose me. I hope they do.

I'm really not supposed to risk a life like mine. I live alone. There's no one left. I didn't dare go to the community home, that place was a wreck. I raised myself. Got myself food, found a small abandoned house and fixed it up, and trained myself just in case the Hunger Games would tear through me.

Maybe they would now.

It wouldn't matter. Since there _is _no one else, who would care if I was gone? And if I came back, wouldn't I be happy again? This is what I think. It's a win-win situation so I guess it's worth the risk.

The day of the reaping is hot and the population of District Eight isn't playing off well with it. People are complaining and all and it's just annoying. We have to come so you may as well keep your mouth shut. I'm especially hot, though, in my black pants and black shirt and black shoes.

The escort keeps babbling and no one really cares, so I tune her out and take what could be a last look at District Eight. Factories and buldings everywhere, grey fog coming out of pipes at the top, dry air. She announces some girl who is paper-white and sticks knives through her hair.

"Aldo Rainn?" The escort asks. I walk up, unaffected-looking. Like any normal guy walking down the street.

The Justice Building is the nicest place I have ever been. With soft, green velvet couches and mohagony wooden desks. I'm expecting no one to come in, but then an unfamiliar woman walks in.

I look up confused. A woman with green eyes, like me, dark brown almost black hair, like me.

"Aldo, good luck." Is all she says with a smile.

She's about to walk out when she says something else. "I'm your mother. I'm sorry."

Then I'm escorted off the the train station without another word coming out of my mouth. Shocked. Utterly shocked. But I snap myself out of that trance. I may be related to her, but that woman is far from a mother. She didn't take care of me, so how I am I supposed to call her mom?

_Remember, Aldo, it's a win-win situation._

There may be one winner of the Hunger Games, but irreagrdless if I make I make it through or not, I still win.


	12. District 9: The Rich and the Poor

_**Cerise Kersa Daly, 17, District 9**_

"Turn the AC up I don't want my hair to frizz!" I yell. A moment after, the vents get louder and more cool air starts pouring out. I continue to curl my hair with my special curling iron. I only use it for special events, and today is reaping day.

I put on my new hot pink dress from the Capitol and slip on pink high heels. I look so hot! Let's be honest, I'm the prettiest seventeen year old in District Nine. I pucker my lips and put on bright pink lipstick, curl my lashes and put on mascara. I bat my eyelashes at the mirror. Gorgeous.

We drive to the reaping, of course. We can afford it and I don't want to wear down the bottoms of my shoes. Once there, I stand a few feet away from the rest of the seventeen year old girls. Most are poor, ew. I voted for poor people, of course.

The Capitol escort starts it off. She's gorgeous! Some Capitol people are just so pretty. She has bright blue eyes that are obviously dyed and silver and dark brown hair. I wish I was from the Capitol, but no one in gross District Nine can do all of that beautifying stuff.

"And now for our female tribute," I hope it's some poor loser! "Miss Cerise Kersa Daly!"

The scream escapes my mouth before I can even register what just happened. I would never do this normally, but I take off my shoes. I start running away very fast from town square. The peacekeepers have trouble catching up to me, but they eventually do and I'm hauled to the stage, with hot tears stinging in my eyes and running down my cheeks. Through my whimpers, the escort tries to calm me down by patting my back and saying calming words, but I just rip a frilly piece of fabric off of her blouse and wipe my eyes with it. She leaves me alone.

Some poor boy is chosen. I know him, he's a punk. I don't care. I don't want to go to the arena! Beautiful people aren't supposed to be killed!

Whatever. I bet all of the others won't be able to do any harm to such a beautiful person.

_**Preston Marcus, 15**_

I steal to live. I have a slowly starving family and nothing to do about it, so it's my only choice. I could probably hunt in the woods surrounding my district, but the mayor is very pro-Capitol and keeps the fence buzzing twenty-four seven.

The officials haven't caught me yet, but my victims know it's me and they hate me for it. _If only they knew what it was like._

My mother is dead and my father overworks himself at a wheat plantation a mile or two north. This doesn't make us nearly enough money for food, so I'm left to feed four others and myself. Yup, life is great.

Going into the Hunger Games would probably be much better for me. I know it is a horrible thought, but I would get to eat fine food for week. I would either die, which would take the weight of our food-situation off my shoulders, or I would win, which would keep my family's stomachs full and their needs in check.

But once your in town square, all of the bravery fades and you find yourself wondering what to do, playing with her hands and your heartbeat getting faster. You're all worries.

Cerise Kersa Daly is picked, and she throws a tantrum, making her look selfish and stupid. She would either be some awful killer and win, or die at the bloodbath. One or the other, nothing else.

The escort pulls the boys' card open and reads clearly. She is annoyed after Cerise ripped the frilly part of the sleeve off off her shirt. "Our male tribute, Mister Preston Marcus!"

So after all of those years of robbing people, I finally got my karma. In no doubt I deserved it, but no one understands my situation.

The Justice Bulding is a blur, and there's two thoughts in my head.

_I could be dead in a week._

_So could my family._


	13. Recap 3

_**Celestia Alexandria, 21, Capitol**_

More commercials between the reapings. I make a mental note to go to Fragrance heaven in the South Capitol mall, where there is a twenty percent off sale.

District Seven comes on, a poor district with hungry children and apparently smells heavily of trees. A small girl is picked and her eyes go huge, but she bravely lets go of a pretty girl's hand and walks to the stage, head high. Her name is Sybil Jones. Allistair Winston has cold yet beautiful eyes, nice hair, and is definitely quite attractive. He walks up to the stage as if nothing had just happened, like a boy walking down the street. I was really hoping for some cryers, but this boy looks as if he had never cried at all. Stone cold.

Knives Lawrence of District Eight gets called, and she looks quite amused, smiling devilishly and striding confidently to the stage. She has a creppy vibe radiating off her, with the knives stuck through her hair and the clunky black boots, in no doubt is she incredible interesting yet so intimidating. Aldo Rainn surprises me. Muscular-unlike most of the skinny weaklings from his district-and dark haired. Most from District Eight have feathery blonde hair. He too looks unaffected, like the boy from Seven, and just walks up like it's no big deal.

District Nine is where it gets interesting. The pretty girl, named Cerise Kersa Daly throws a fit and runs away swiftly. The peacekeepers have trouble catching her, but they grasp her arms and hoist her onto the stage, where the escort tries to calm her down. She thanks the escort but ripping the frilly sleeve off of her clouse and using it to wipe away her tears. The male tribute, Preston Marcus looks not sad, but disappointed. I feel sympathetic toward him. He is very skinny and his light brown hair is all messed up a tousled. His dingy white shirt is far too big and crinkled and his black dress pants need to be ironed.


	14. District 10: The Pessimists

_**Ty Revin, 14, District 10**_

I lay awake in my bed, the morning of the reaping just daydreaming. I want to get out of here, out of the district so badly, but there's no way out. Even if there was, I could never do it. I roll over again on the soft sheets and realize that the reaping is unavoidable, I have to get up. I roll my eyes and slip out of the warm bed, placing my feet on the icy floor. A chill runs through me and I shudder.

What an awful way to start my day. Waking up all mad because of the stupid reaping, not being able to avoid it, and freezing up within a minute of getting out of bed. Fun.

I pull out the first fancy thing I see, not wanting to dig through my closet because it will only be a disaster. I pull out a spring green sheath dress and slip it on. It's pretty, with an a-line skirt, and even on the worst day, you cannot deny how cheery the color makes you. I pull my light blonde hair into a simple topknot and slip on a pair of flat lace shoes.

I dig through a few of my drawers, looking for maybe a piece of jewelry or something. Instead I pull out a crumbled picture of my mom. She was so beautiful, looked a lot like me. I just stare at the picture, paralyzed for a moment until Marco walks in. "Ty, it's time for breakfast!" He yells. I smile at his high voice. He looks a lot like me and my mom. We all do except for Jack, he's the only one that looks like dad.

I walk downstairs and see all of my brothers eating breakfast. My dad has his eyebrows raised and he rubs his left temple, stressed because of another bill that we can barely pay. I eat my food, barely stomaching it with the thoughts of my mother and the reaping. I think that if you start your day badly, it will end badly, too.

I go outside and practice some shooting against a tree. What an awful location of our house, because people walking by are staring at me. A girl wearing a dress, shooting arrows in District Ten, where everyone just knows to use a gun to kill animals because it puts them out of their misery faster. Except it doesn't put us out of our misery. Sucks, doesn't it?

One person walking by finally speaks up instead of staring.

"What are you doing."

"Shooting, do you mind?"

"No...I guess." He replies, looking stupid.

"Go home, kid. Go home." I say. He walks away.

The square is steaming hot and filled with anxious children and parents alike. I'm completely zoned out until the Capitol lady walks to the girls' bowl and opens the card. "Now for our female tribute...Miss..."

_Please don't be me. My day already sucks._

"Tyler Revin!"

I walk up stiffly, not daring to cry or anything. That would be weak.

Then I meet-or should I say re-meet-my district partner, the annoying boy from before.

Today really, really sucks. That's al I'm going to say.

_**Payton Cleo, 13**_

I encounter a girl shooting arrows on my lonely way to the reaping. Being the kind gentleman I am, I ask her what she's doing: she snaps at me.

Wow. People really don't like me.

I honestly try really hard to be nice to people but everyone just says I'm annoying. _Yeah, well thanks, I appreciate it guys. _I'm always nice to people, holding doors for them, picking up stuff that they dropped, but all I get in return are dirty looks and, "Don't touch my stuff!"'s.

I don't really care. _I_ think I'm nice. _I_ think I'm funny. So whatever, right? I'll do whatever I want to.

It's really hot in town square, and it only adds to the awful stench of our district. I think we have the worst district industry ever, livestock. It's gross and smelly and cow crap is everywhere. Not a fun job, and I definitely don't want to that when _I_ grow up.

The girl who was shooting arrows gets picked.

_Hmm, what a coincedence!_

Then, the lady goes to the boys' bowl and picks out the single card. She pries it open with her claws/fingernails and reads the name. "Our elected male tribute is Mister Payton Cleo!"

_Dammit, I guess I really am __that__ annoying._

I walk to the stage, not caring if I show my fear. These people, the people who are supposed to be my friends betrayed me. This is awful.

The Justice Bulding is another cruel reminder. I'd really prefer not to see my family because it just reminds me that this could well be the very last time.

All I can say is that this was incredibly unfortunate.


	15. District 11: No Surprises Here

_**Ali Balaqua, 15, District 11**_

I wince as I pull the curlers out of my hair, they hurt. I've heard that in District One, they make this cylinder that you heat up and you wrap your hair around it to make it curly. I need one of those.

When all of the curlers are out, I realize it was worth it. I would never normally get so dolled up on reaping day, but for some reason I just wanted to look extra special. I pull on the silky, pleated red dress and zip it up. I slip into some shoes and I know I'm ready. I've already done my morning chores, eaten breakfast, and I just got ready for the reaping.

"Ali! Are you ready to go?" Sam asks. Sam isn't my father, but he's as close as I'll ever get. I have no idea what happened to my mother but all I know is that she isn't alive anymore. My dad remarried a woman named Anna. Anna is polite and nice enough, but honestly, we have too many differences and I would rather just not talk to her. Anna also has her children. Alexis, she's really annoying, and I really do try to be nice to her but it's hard, and Teddy. Teddy's nice but he's definitely not my best friend. Just the most normal of them, I guess.

At the square, I meet up Jaime, Torren, and Chase. Jaime looks as pretty as ever, her dark brown hair tumbling over her shoulders in cascading waves. Torren finally cleaned up. He is quite good looking, but is far too humble and doesn't care enough to make it stand out. Chase looks good, too.

"Hi Ali." Chase says nervously. I know he likes me, and I don't really return the favor but I honestly don't feel like telling him, so I just smile at him.

"Um, Jaim. I think we should get over to our section. It's about to start." I say. We walk over quietly.

"He really likes you." She says, looking down.

"But I don't like him like that, and I don't want to lose his friendship." I say, she nods, still looking at the ground.

I tune out the whole treaty of treason and just wish the Chase didn't like me, that Jaime didn't encourage it. The moment that smacks me back into reality is when the man from the Capitol says, "District Eleven voted Alina Balaqua as tribute!"

I walk up to the stage, honestly not surprised.

Oh, poor Chase.

_**Donhall Peters, 12**_

I sigh as I get ready for the reaping. I have such a high chance of going into the games! Everyone hates me because of my disabilities, they would send me in to see me die! District Eleven would rid themselves of the needy because of their selfishness.

It makes me angry sometimes, but I would much rather be dead than live here. The government is awful. I have no friends. I have two awful medical issues. My family has trouble taking care of me. Everyone in my district hates me, and I've never been outside of my district so to me, that's everyone.

I look in the cracked mirror, good enough, but far from good. I just sigh and walk downstairs. I can barely eat an apple, it just gives me a stomach ache and makes me too full.

It's very hot out, especially in town square, where cheery banners hang from buildings and try to liven up the dreadful mood. The escort starts right as the hour comes and all of the stuff is read. Our one single victor, Xander Steele, who is kind of jumpy and mentally unstabe since his games, where his ally went mad and tried to kill him has his name read. He will be the mentor.

Then they announce the girl tribute, some tall muscular girl, a rare sight here in Eleven. Then, it's on to the boys. I hear it.

"District Eleven voted Donhall Peters as male tribute!" I expect myself to faint or cry or something, but I realize that I was totally expecting this and I've already gotten over it. I walk like I normally do, shoulder's sagging, head down, up to the stage.

The Justice Building is filled with tears and good lucks from my family, but I'm sure they all know that there's no way on earth I'll make it out of there.

I'm rushed off to the train station, and for the first time in a while, I see the sun peek out.


	16. District 12: Shaken and Confused

_**Aurelia Tyree, 16, District 12**_

I am careful not to startle the graceful rabbit as it sits on the leave-scattered floor. I readjust the knife in my fingers, finding the right angle. Then, I release it. It silently whizzes through the air into the rabbit's neck. I was aiming for the skull, but the rabbit moved at the last second. At least the meat won't be damaged.

I pick up the small canvas bag lined with plastic and approach the rabbit. It was once so beautiful and agile. It is now so lifeless.

I haul it back to the fence, check the fence for electricity, and wriggle under. I hide the bag inside my oversized jacket. The mayor is strict, and would severely punish anyone who he knew went into the woods, but the Capitol doesn't care enough about District Twelve to repair the fance or even keep it electrified. This encourages many to climb through a hole in the fence to hunt and gather.

Though it is illegal to hunt, and the punishments are severe, the few of us brave enough to hunt do it because we don't want to starve...and I'm not gonna lie, fresh meat and greens are delicious. I think that if more people had the right tools, they too would hunt.

On the way back to my house in the Seam, I see the boy who I always see entering the woods. A kid in my year at school, definitely Seam, who climbs into another hole in the fence about thirty yards from mine. He brings his spear. I always see him coming back from the lake with a bunch of fish and some water roots. I've only been back that far once. I usually just stick to the area I know best.

When I arrive back, I change for the reapings. This year's Quarter Quell twist was so dumb. It turns the districts against themselves in an awful way and I think that's exactly what the Capitol wants. I look okay. I'm wearing what used to be a bright white lace dress that got really dingy and wrinkly with time, and worn brown boots that are somewhat nice and quite comfortable.

Summer time has come, I can tell from the insects in the forest, but here in Town Square, you'd think it was late July rather than mid-May. Two months with the Hunger Games squeezed in between them. In the Capitol, June is the definite favorite month of the year, no doubt, but here in the Districts, it's the toughest.

For some reason, I stay in focus and actually listen to the whole big pre-reaping thing, and before I know it, Karmen DeGraw is opening the girls' card. The name she reads echoes in my ears an unnumberable amount of times before I can even register what just happened. First, I was just another girl standing in the crowd of sixteens. Next, I hear the name, "Aurelia Tyree!" and I'm non-hesitantly walking up to the stage. Shaking, but okay. I have nothing left to lose. No one who would care so much if I was gone. Except me.

A shudder runs through my spine and a single icy tear drips down my face.

_**Leo Tyler, 16**_

"Hey." Too high pitched. "Hey." Too friend-ish. "Hey!" Perfect!

Here I am, practicing how to impress the ladies at the reaping by talking to myself in the mirror. I wore a nice button down and some grey trousers, definitely very nice looking, and my dad let me borrow some sticky stuff for my hair. I was wary about using it at first, but it looks good.

"Leo! We don't want to be late! I don't want a peacekeeper slamming my door down!" My mom calls. I wink at myself one more time before proceeding downstairs. When my younger sister, Ellie, sees me, she rolls her eyes. Fourteen and she acts like I'm so shallow compared to her. Oh, well, I probably am, but whatever. One day the girls will be tripping over me and Ellie will be so lonely with no man to fill that empty space.

It is very hot out, but that won't interfere with my vibe. I walk coolly, not too close to my family, but not too far. I wink at another Seam girl and she gives me a quick glare before looking away. Guess I didn't do that right. It takes pretty long to get to the Square but that gives me more time to work on my moves. I smile at girl and she looks away. Still not working? What the heck.

When we finally arrive, I make sure to walk past the groups of girls within my age range to get to my section. I say hey to a couple of girls but they ignore me. This is starting to get annoying.

I am too busy being angry about my girl problems that I don't notice my name is called until a circle forms around me. I am somewhat confused, but just make my way up to the stage with a very confused look on my face. I can only process one thought: _What is going on?_

The Justice Building is mainly hugs and good lucks, but I'm still confused. Is it possible that I didn't even hear my own name being called?

I need a glass of water.


	17. FINAL RECAP! And pregame list!

_**Celestia Alexandria, 12, Capitol**_

Commercials, commercials, com-wait! District Ten is on!

I turn the volume on the large, clear T.V. up and listen close. Natalia Prentace uses her claw-like nails to open the girls' card. Tyler Revin is a girl who always looks annoyed and impatient. When I have to style tributes like that, it annoys me, but it gives them some real fire in the arena. Her district Partner, Payton Cleo is very awkward. He stands there, hunched over, looking out across the district.

District Eleven is odd. The girl is strong and the boy is weak. Her name is Alina Balaqua. Tall and muscular and doesn't look the littlest bit fazed. Although the boy is weak, only twelve and not strong at all, he isn't scared the least bit, and you can tell by his facial expression. With slumped shoulders, he walks up. You think he'd be a cryer.

The reapings conclude in District Twelve, a place that apparently has coal dust everywhere. Aurelia Tyree, a pretty girl in a dingy dress walks up shaking. On the stage she has one big shudder, and I'm not sure, but I think I saw a tear run down her face. Leonardo Tyler stands with his hand in his pockets while the people around him back up, forming a circle. He soon realizes that it was his name and walks up, very confused.

The reapings weren't as good as I though, but good enough. I dress, and make my way to the remake center to see who I'll be styling this year.

**Yup, Celestia is a stylist. I'll pick a name out of a hat to see who she's going to do, but not any of my tributes or Cerise for sure. Many of you have been asking if I'll be doing the whole pre-game thing, and my answer is yes, I will. There will be four pre-game chapters, each with six POV's from different tributes. I'm dividing them up by what I want to see. They will either be train ride, chariot, training, or interview.**

**Train Ride: Tyler Revin, Blake Devon, Cerise Kersa Daly, Ali Balaqua, Leo Tyler, Caspian Bentley.**

**Chariot: Rowan Fightheart, Blaze Reiner, Sheek Ploy, Preston Marcus, Dawn Swift, Sybil Jones.**

**Training: Aldo Rainn, Allistair Winston, Donaldio Merkendo, Kat Nelson, Aurelia Tyree, Knives Lawrence.**

**Interview: Gena Rouge, Lilly Andreckson, Fernando Sasquilla, Donhall Peters, Payton Cleo, Topaz Lexica.**

**Thanks for being so patient with the long and boring reapings! LESSON LEARNED. Next time, I'll just do the whole thing from a Capitol viewer's point of view than write a small persona on each tribute.**


	18. Train Rides!

**The train rides!**

_**Blake Devon, 16, District 4**_

Delphina from the Capitol introduces me to my mentor, Ryder. He is a very sad man. The Capitol and the Games turned Ryder, who was a huge hopeless romantic and a really nice guy, into some sort of a depressed person who is never focused. She shows me to my quarters. My mouth drops when I see them. Even nicer than back home! District Four is a rich district, so everyone kind of lives comfortable, affording everything they need plus a bit of what they want, including training. Soft, fluffy white carpeting that must take ages to clean. The hugest bed I've ever seen-even bigger than my parents' bed. A bathroom with a shower and a tub. Everyone in the districts only have tubs, showers are too hard to install and District One only makes so many...just enough for the Capitol.

I take a shower. It's like a warm rain and it's also steamy. After, I dress in some jeans and a loose grey shirt with short sleeves. Delphina calls me to dinner. I realize that I'm absolutely starved. I meet up at the dinner table with my mentor, my district partner Lilly's mentor, and our escort. Lilly has also showered and changed into a pair of tight blue jeans, tall brown boots, and a purple sweater.

The food is incredible, and I find myself actually enjoying this even though in a week, I'll be fighting to the death. I was pretty pissed before, but now I realize that I have a pretty good chance. I'm trained, I'm smart, and I'm not too young. This isn't half bad.

_**Caspian Bentley, 13, District 5**_

I stand no chance, I already know. So I try to forget about it and just enjoy my last week here on earth. My escort, Malene introduces me to my mentor. Her name is Geneva. She's a sweet woman and it's hard to believe she would ever kill anyone.

When Malene and Geneva take me and Dawn to our quarters, we're both very obviously blown away. We've never seen such finery. Everything is so soft, so fancy, and so new. I take a boiling hot shower, something the Capitol people are big on and I see why. I dress, and Malene calls me to dinner.

Let me just say, I've never seen so much fancy food in my life. Actually, I've just never seen so much food in my life. I start off with this rich broth made of tomatoes and cream that has something called oregano sprinkled over the top. They serve it with this warm fluffy bread. Then, without even having to ask, a woman dressed in a white tunic takes my empty bowl away and replaces it with a small but wide piece of dark meat. Malene calls it filet mignon. It's drenched in this thick sauce and served with a salad made of various greens and something they call cucumbers in a heavy dressing. They then serve us this cold bowl of what they call ice cream. It is flavored like vanilla and has this light, airy stuff on top that is lightly sweet and creamy in your mouth. After, I'm stuffed and happy. My stomach has never been so full in my life. I lean back in my soft chair and enjoy the comfort.

Not too bad for my last days.

_**Cerise Kersa Daly, 17, District 9**_

I'm surprised that this train is even nicer than home. I hold myself together long enough for my escort to show me my room. I hit my large bed, and thats when the tears start flowing. I cry, scream into my pillow. This really shouldn't be me.

Once I can't cry anymore, I decide I will try a shower. I've heard that they were amazing, but I have to find out for myself. I try it, and it's very nice. It's like being in your only little room that's warm and smells amazing. When I get out, I hit a button that blows my hair dry. I notice that the bright white vanity has little drawers, so I pull them open. I find my favorite thing: makeup. I try some of the fancy capitol makeup. I put on a beige colored eyeshadow that makes my eyes shimmer and some really fancy mascara.

The clothes are beautiful. I choose a dark pink blouse with sleeves that puff out then close in at my wrists, some tight stretchy black pants, and black boots with a bit of wedge that go just above my ankle.

Then there's dinner. My district partner Preston looks amazed. I am, too, but I would never show it. I eat to my heart's content. There is first a rich soup, then a flakey white fish in a citrusy sauce, a salad in a creamy dressing, small cakes with chocolate flavored icing.

Beautiful rooms, showers, makeup, clothes, good food. This is actually way better than I thought. Thanks, District Nine. And don't take that for granted because thank you's from me are hard to come by.

_**Tyler Revin, 14, District 10**_

My bad day got better. This train is incredible! I take a hot shower and dress in stretchy black pants that flare around the ankles, a white undershirt, and a soft grey shirt that is a bit short and falls off my shoulder. I pull my now very soft blonde hair into a bun and lay back in the bed with a Capitol magazine.

My escort calls me to supper. I sit down and I'm immediately served with a soup that smells incredible. My mentor, a shakey man named Wolfe puts his soup spoon down and begins to speak. "So, Tyler, Payton. What's the plan? Make an alliance? Go solitary? What's on your mind?" I'm going solitary, no doubt. I don't want to get too attached and an ally will bring me down.

"I'm going solo, for sure." I say. He nods.

"Well, if you know how to use weapons, then going solo is okay. If you can't, then I suggest you make an ally." He says.

"I'm an archer. I'm very accurate and I spent a lot of time practicing long distance, short distance, all different types of ranges. Don't worry about me, I'm good." I realize I must sound really cocky, but frankly, I don't really give a crap. Theres a fat chance I might die in there, so I'll listen to what my instincts tell me. Plus, there's no way I'm teaming up with the weak loser sitting across from me. He'd drag me down. I'm never going to team up with the careers, because for one thing, they'd never accept me. And two, as soon as I do something wrong, I'm sure one of them will snap my neck. All of the others are probably weak, even though I have no idea who they are. So whatever.

I don't need to worry about anyone but myself, and I've already got a plan worked out

_**Ali Balaqua, 15, District 11**_

The train is great. I met my mentor and my escort, they showed me to my beautiful room, and I took a shower. There's an enormous amount of clothing and at least twenty different types of soaps in the shower.

After I dress, my escort, Lance, calls me to dinner. He is super flamboyant and cheery and makes me laugh. My district partner is starting to look a little happier. I decide to leave him alone. I have never seen so much food, so I swallow every last bit. My district partner has trouble even finishing the soup. I know he has disabilities, but eating so little cannot be right.

My mentor is a quiet woman named Meegan. She obviously doesn't like to talk much, but she always wears a small smile and only talks when necessary.

"Would you like to watch a recap of the reapings?" She asks. I nod and smile.

"Yes please." I reply. This makes Meegan happy. I am a nice person in general, but I'm sure to be extra gentle on her, because she only won a few years ago and is obviously still shaken.

A pretty girl from One, with a brute as a district partner. The girl from Two wears a huge smirk and the boy is hot. No other way to say it. I'll be looking out for the boy from Three...he looks suspicious to me, but the girl is very forgettable. The two from Four are careers, they spend a lot of time outside judging from their tan skin, but their similarities end there. The girl from Five looks confident, the boy looks disappointed. I will also look out for the boy from Six, who wears a cocky smile and looks pleased to be picked as tribute. His companion is a pretty girl, but probably won't be very useful. In Seven, an intimidating boy gets picked. His eyes are solid and he looks rock hard. The girl looks more cut-loose but is obviously very shocked when her name is called. In Eight, a girl with knives in her hair is chosen, and a strong looking boy is also picked. The girl from Nine throws a fit and runs away from town square, only to be caught by peacekeepers. The boy is cool and collected and gets himself up to the stage alright. In Ten, the girl looks very annoyed and the boy disappointed. I see myself walking to the stage in the District Eleven reapings, I look brave. Donhall looks like...well, Donhall. The girl from Twelve holds herself together, but after awhile, a huge chill runs through her. The boy doesn't realize his name is called and people circle around him.

Now I know my competition. I'll just have to put them to good use.

_**Leo Tyler, 16, District 12**_

I have never been anywhere so beautiful in my entire life. Sure, the Justic Building in Twelve was nice, but this place is just incredible. I take a shower, something I've heard was incredible, and it is. After my shower, I dress and order something they call lemonade in the Capitol. Well, whatever it is, it's delicious.

Karmen, my escort calls me to dinner. Perfect timing.

Before I go, I use some stuff in my hair again to make it smooth, but it's not sticky like the stuff my dad has. I put it in just in case my district partner was a cutie, I wasn't paying much attention to her before.

My district partner is a cutie, as it turns out. She looks nothing like a District Twelve girl. She has auburn hair and green eyes, not even close. Not a merchant nor a Seam look to her, so odd. But whatever, she's good looking and she's female. And she's my age so yeah, it's good enough for sure.

When dinner comes, the scents make my mouth water. It smells incredible. Then I taste it. Even better than I thought. I can't help but dig in. I know my manners, my mom scolds me when I don't use them, but its hard with such decadent food around me. I'm gorging myself, and Aurelia is, too. We're from the poorest, most ignored district in the Country. Most people in our district die of starvation, and this much food all at once seems impossible to get.

We watch a re-cap of the reapings and drink this delicious spiced tea that makes me really calm and tired. I walk back to my room, yawning. I wash the gel out of my hair, clean my teeth, and change into fleece pants and a loose white shirt. I fall into the bed and doze off immediately, dreaming of decadent foods, lemonade, and spiced tea.

**Hi guys! I hope you liked this chapter! I realize it was mostly about food...well whatever. So when I was writing Leo's part, I was craving a Vanilla Chai Tea Latte from Starbucks, so I was referring to that. Now I really want lemonade and a vanilla chai tea latte. The chariot chapter is going to be amazing! I am changing the costumes around because I love thinking of them, and I'll probably also change the interview costumes. Also, I woud love if you guys could leave a pm or review of a celebrity preference of your tribute. (For example, one of my characters, Audrina, was based on Leighton Meester). So if you could do that, that would be great! Also, thanks to all of you that constantly review, you know who you are ;)**


	19. Chariot Rides!

**Chariot Rides! Guys, I'm so excited for the games part. Some of the tributes will go completely nuts, some will be incredible untrustworthy, some will be blinded by love, and some will be hiding their personalities to their allies. Not only will their be blood, but there will be drama!**

**Also, at the end of the chapter, I have a sneak-peek from a secret tribute's point of view from the games!**

_**Rowan Fightheart, 17, District 1**_

"Wait for Topaz when you get down to the lobby!" Shouts my escort, Colletta, in her high pitched Capitol accent.

"Yup!" I say back as the doors close. The elevator zooms downward so fast, it makes me lightheaded. I'm wearing so much that when I walk, my shoulders feel heavy. Colletta saw my shoulders curved forward and said, "You can do that now, but on the chariot I want you standing tall with an award winning grin!" I nodded. She was right, of course, but she's just so annoying.

I get to the lobby where I see the other tributes in costume, exiting the elevators and walking to their chariots. My heart flutters as a hear the ding that signals Topaz has arrived in the lobby. I used to really hate her, but over the train ride, I realized that I kind of like her. _More_ than like her. No one can doubt that she has incredible looks, of course, but she also has an amazing personality that she masks with this mean-girl attitude.

She walks out and is wearing a blank expression, but looks stunning. She's wearing a crystal-studded bodysuit that leaves her long, slender legs completely bare. There's mesh over top covering her collarbone, and this ginormous fan of pure white feathers behind her. Her makeup is done so perfectly, and no on can deny that she looks stunning.

I signal her to go ahead of me, like a gentleman, and she curtsies and smiles. When we reach the chariot, I climb in, then hold out my hand to help her in. "You look stunning." I say. Once she's in, I grasp her hand a moment longer and kiss it.

"Thank you. You look wonderful, too." She looks down at my outfit, a skin colored suit that covers me completely and is studded everywhere with crystals. My hair is done all fancy and in no doubt, I look very good. I give her a warm smile and she smiles back. She turns away to look at the other tributes and I find myself gazing at the back of her head. I'm itching to reach out and kiss her soft hand again, but I won't let myself.

_Let her figure it out for herself, bud._ I tell myself.

_**Sheek Ploy, 17, District 2**_

I love this outfit, to say the least. I take a look into the mirrored walls in the elevator, and yes, I look beautiful, but I also look so intimidating, it's incredible. I am dressed as a warrior, as beautiful and as deadly as Athena. I walk out of the elevator, kind of dizzy from how fast it is. I see the girl from District Seven tripping over her own feet in the high heels and almost laugh. Just to make her feel bad, I walk swiftly in front of her in my heels, which must be at least three inches taller than hers. My mom was always polishing and prepping me for the Hunger Games, from weaponry to presentation. I walk in heels for fun. It's like second nature.

These are gold leather platform heels that have to be seven inches tall. They reach my ankle and lace up. The heel looks like a dagger. I'm wearing armor, and a very short skirt but it doesn't bother me.

I smile when I see the marble chariot already occupies my stupid district partner, Donaldio. Yeah, he's good looking and talented with weapons, but dumb as a box of rocks. He, too is dressed as a gladiator, but needs to work on his utter intimidation face. I know I won't be teaming up with him, but I want District Two to look like to feircest district in Panem. Sure, we are already the richest, and the most loved by the Capitol, and we already have four victors, but that's how it is in Two. We always want more.

I step into the chariot. "Donaldio, please put on a face that makes you look more fierce." without a second of hesitation, his normal expression floats into a rough smirk. "Perfect." I say. I turn away from him, but he's still looking at me. I refuse to look back. Refuse to reassure him that I'm a "friend."

Then, his head jerks away because he has no other choice. The doors to the stable have just opened and the chariot is out and moving.

_**Dawn Swift, 14, District 5**_

I honestly don't understand how my stylist managed to make someone as plain looking as me look so deadly.

My thin red hair is swooped over my face then tucked back into a tight bun, and some sort of product was put on it to make it so glossy that you could see your reflection in it. My eyes are rimmed in shimmery black kohl and dark silver eyeshadow. I'm wearing a shiny, black leather body-suit and there are surges of power and bright sparks coming out of it. It has a high neck, which is somewhat modest, but the modesty ends there. The leg part is cut like a swimsuit, so you can see my legs, covered in silver fishnet tights. I look amazingly gorgeous, and so intimidating. The only problem are these killer heels. They're black and they lace up to my ankle, the heel is made out of glass and they are so uncomfortable. I look deadly, but I sure as heck don't feel it.

I half walk, half stumble to the elevator. It's a good thing I don't have to walk on the chariot. I somewhat fall into the elevator and press the lobby button. Within seconds, the glass doors to the elevator open and I'm out of the small glass box. The girl from District Seven is leaning against the wall massaging her foot. I can see why. The girl in front of me, from Two, is walking in her massive shoes like they're a pair of sneakers she's worn for years.

When I finally make my way to the chariot, I see Caspian and almost laugh. I wouldn't ever say it out loud, but Caspian is kind of wimpy. It's funny how his stylists managed to make him look so rugged. I sit on the ledge of the grey chariot for a moment, staring at my shoes.

The stable doors begin to open and I hop up onto the chariot. I'm sure to look confident and strong, because I know Blake will be watching and I want him to see me at my best, even with the rough situation I'll be facing. The cool air blows against my face and I put on my best smirk.

_**Blaze Reiner, 15, District 6**_

Kat peeks her head out of the door. "Come out!" I beg, she blushes. Kat has been a pretty good friend to me since we got here. She kind of reminds me of Nikki, except she's even funnier. Especially on the train, the way she spoke to our escort. She was so disrespectful to adults yet it was just so hysterical.

When Kat comes out, I honestly don't understand what she was so embarrassed about. She looks cute, the way she is supposed to. She is wearing a bright yellow dress, and on the right side, there is a vertical checkerboard pattern of black and the bright yellow. My suit has the same pattern. She is wearing these very high lace-up heels that are dark black, and her hair is stick straight and curled in at the ends. Her bottom eyelashes look ginormous. I've never seen a style like this.

"You look gorgeous, Kitty Kat!" I say. She laughs.

"My stylist told me it was inspired by some time called the 1960's, and she mixed it with the taxi-cabs here in the Capitol. The design for the cabs was from some place called New York City that existed a few generations ago." She says. She sounds like a walking encyclopedia.

"1960's? That was ages ago! How do you think she knows about this stuff?" I ask her.

"How do you think I know how she knows about this stuff?" She says. We burst out laughing. She comes up and runs her manicured fingers across my slick hair. After, she wipes her hand on the fancy wallpapered walls. "I guess the people here really love this time period..." She says.

Pandora bursts out of her room, having changed from before into _her_ definition of dressy clothes. She's wearing impossibly high heels. I don't know how she is still walking, but it seems so normal to her.

Pandora literally pushes me and Kat down the elevator. "Good luck, my darlings!" She yells as the elevator doors close. It zips downward and we walk out to the stables. We step into the shiny white chariot just in time for the doors to the stable to open.

The dazzling tributes from One are dressed in silver sequins, and the girl even has a fan of feathers behind her. The Careers from Two are are dressed as gorgeous and deadly warriors. Three are wearing shiny black jumpsuits with neon lines blaring across them. Four are mermaids and merman, glittering in aqua blue. Five are sparking with silver. Then there's us, Six. Behind us is Seven. The girl in a dress made of leaves and the boy in a similar suit. Eight are wearing outfits made out of spools of thread. Nine are wearing fake tufts of grain that wrap around them. They look very unhappy. Ten is supposed to be horses. The girls' hair is super long and shiny. She is wearing a blonde dress that looks like hair. Eleven are wearing outfits made of fruit. Twelve are wearing skimpy coal miners outfits that are coal black.

I guess we got the better half of the outfits.

I put on my best smile and wave to the audience. I'm ready to be world-renowned.

_**Sybil Jones, 15, District 7**_

Magdalena pushes me into the elevator. I stumble in my heels. They are brown, and have straps made of fake leaves. The tiny but tight straps are the only things holding my feet in. My tight dress is made entirely of the same fake leaves and is so itchy. I'm wearing so much eyemakeup that it is honestly weighing down my eyelids. My hair is heavy, too. My prep team put numerous amounts of extensions in before littering it with hairspray to make it even heavier. As umcomfortable as I am, Magdalena told me that I have to smile if I want sponsors.

I'm wondering what Mari and Koby would think. Mari will cry once she see's me on screen. Koby will think I look much better when I'm not loaded with makeup. It makes me smile to think of him.

My district partner Allistair walks in, wearing a suit similar to my dress. He gives me a curt nod. He's polite enough, but he's so intimidating and his eyes are ice cold. Once we're in the arena, I doubt we'll speak another word to each other.

We climb into the chariot that's painted with trees. Only a moment before the doors burst open and the chilly-but much needed-air flies onto my face. Now I see why my prep team put so much hairspray in.

_"Smile, wave, and no matter how uncomfortable you are, show that you have no trouble. Don't look like a loser, sweetheart, like you've already lost."_

Magdalena's words echo in my head and I improve my posture. I begin waving and smiling and blowing kisses, ignoring the sting on my hairless limbs. I continue until we pull into city circle. President Coriolanus Snow the First beams, happy to see the tributes who will soon be slaughtered. He begins his speech and in the surrounding apartments, children of the Capitol stick their heads out of the opened windows, staring at the tributes who their parents may soon sponsor. I catch the eye of a little girl smiling.

That little girl won't ever have to face the pain of the reapings, being a tribute, and all that goes with it. Lucky, lucky girl.

_**Preston Marcus, 15, District 9**_

The elevator to the lobby opens just in time for me to see my psycho district partner scream and throw a vase of overly-frangrant flowers against the wall. It shatters and the pieces fall to the ground over the water stain.

Our outfits are terrible. I think we're in a three-way-tie for worst outfit between us, District Ten, and District Twelve. Cerise is wrapped in tufts of fake grain that are very revealing, covering her chest, showing her stomach, covering her hips and all the area below. My suit is painted as a field of grain. I hate it with burning passion.

The angry girl stomps off toward the tan chariot with pictures of grain painted on it, and I follow slowly behind.

I step in and avoid Cerise, who also avoids me. the stable doors oep nand we're off on the ride. Now, Cerise is waving and winking and blowing kisses. She scares me, but I shake it off and smile at the screaming Capitol audience.

We stop in front of President Snow the First's mansion and listen to some boring speech. The chariots circle the large fountain in City Circle before escorting us to the Training Center. When we arrive, our stylists and prep teams, escort and mentor all scream and cheer. Cerise gives them a dirty look. "I LOOKED SO (insert word that I shouldn't say here) RETARDED!" She runs up to the elevator and cries against the wall.

"So..um..Preston, want to have dinner?" asks my stylist.

"Sounds great." I reply.

**Yup, so here it is. A sneak-peek from the games!**

_She starts to circle me. Tears are building in her eyes. Not sad tears, but angry, hot tears that hurt your throat when you try to hold them back._

_"You selfish, inconsiderate BRAT!" She yells. "That's your problem! You only think of yourself, _(insert tribute's name here)_! You spend so much fucking time feeling bad for yourself and you never think of anyone else!"_

_She is expecting me to reply, but I don't. I won't admit that _(insert tribute's name here) _is right, but she probably is. I won't give into her anger. If _(insert tribute's name here)_ is going to act like this, I sure as hell don't want to be her victim. I see a glint of hatred in her eyes that is shielded by tears._

**I hope you guys liked it! I also have a some things celebrities in mind for how SOME of the tributes look. Please say something if you disagree.**

**Topaz Lexica, District One - Leighton Meester or Emma Roberts**

**Donaldio Merkendo, District Two - Logan Lerman**

**Sheek Ploy, District Two - Ashley Benson**

**Gena Rouge, District Three - Alexandra Chando**

**Lilly Andreckson, District Four - Isabelle Fuhrman (I know she's playing Clove, but I imagine Lilly like this)**

**Dawn Swift, District Five - Bella Thorne, or, big stretch, Emma Stone**

**Kat Nelson, District Six - Hailee Steinfeld**

**Blaze Reiner, District Six - Simon Woods**

**Sybil Jones, District Seven - Sarah Hyland**

**Allistair Winston, District Seven - Callan Mcauliffe or Jake Abel**

**Knives Lawrence, District Eight - Elizabeth Gillies**

**Aldo Rainn, District Eight - Tyler Blackburn**

**Cerise Kersa Daly, District Nine - AnnaLynne Mccord**

**Tyler Revin, District Ten - Dakota Fanning**

**Ali Balaqua, District Eleven - Blake Lively**

**Aurelia Tyree, District Twelve, Shailene Woodley**


	20. Training & Private Sessions!

_**Donaldio Merkendo, 17, District 2**_

The first day of training is going to be the hardest, I can tell you that. Don't get me wrong, I've been itching to get my hands on some weapons. This is the longest stretch of time that I haven't trained. I can't even imagine the looks on the weak tribute's faces when I get my hands on a machete or a sword.

As exepcted, District One is early. After we arrive, District Four comes in. Us trainees are obviously the first there. The most eager, with the highest chance of winning. I walk over to District One, who stand next to each other whispering to one another.

"Hey, I'm Donaldio. Call me Don. District Two. Allies?" I don't try to sound to formal, because either one of us or none of us is going to come out alive, and fomality really doesn't matter.

"Yup. I'm Rowan, this is Topaz." Says the boy, with no hesitation. He has a similar build to me, about same height, same amount of muscle, but the similarities end there. Topaz is tall and pretty and muscular. Typical District One girl. "Hey, do you know if your District Partner wants to team up with us? She seems well-trained." Rowan Says. By this time, the only people not here are District Nine.

"I don't know. I've seen her with a bow and arrow. She's good." I say. "We train at the same facility. But in the meantime, what do you think of District Four?" We all look in the general direction and nod to each other.

When training starts, I try to say as little as possible. If I'm going to have a position in our trainee pack, I want to be the follower. I show off enough to let the other tributes know to back off, but not enough so that I look better than Rowan, who is the super intimidating one of the pack.

Topaz is better than I thought, incredible with a knife. Lilly and Blake from Four are both great with tridents, plus they could help us get some fish and tie some knots for traps.

I go up to Sheek to ask. If she joined our alliance, it would be the perfect completion to our ultimate-killer wolf-pack.

"Hey, Sheek. I'm in a little alliance with One and Four, and I was wondering if you wanted to join?" She's shooting arrows at a dummy, getting it through both eyes, the heart, and the mouth. She releases one into the forehead and restrings her bow while she speaks, not turning to me.

"I'd rather not. In fact, I'd like each and every one of you to stay the hell away from me, because I can kill you all." She hisses.

"Big deal. We'll get you first, Ploy." I say. I head back to my allies to tell them the news.

"At least we know who to kill first, though." Rowan says casually, as he slices the head off a dummy with a machete. Us Trainees, we're cold people, and we're proud about it. I nod so I don't look like I'm upstaging Rowan, but I don't really want to kill Sheek at all.

_**Kat Nelson, 14, District 6**_

I stuck with Blaze most of the time in training. Joking, having fun, it was all good. I'm incredible with knives, I get it on target every time. I'm also good runner, and I can set up rope traps pretty well. Blaze is trained, so he's good with a lot. His specialty is a metal club, knowing exactly where to hit someone with it. He's also great at tying knots and excels in running courses.

I'm tired but confident by the time we get to lunch. I just might be able to survive and the feeling is great, knowing that I stand a chance. Me and Blaze are allies, and he's a good ally to have.

"Do you think we should ask anyone else? I mean, I've been keeping my eye on the Trainees, and they're really good. Will we stand a chance against them? I'm thinking that the girl from Twelve and the boy from Three will be good allies. They've already teamed up." I suggest.

"No! Neither of them stand a chance. We should team up with the Trainees, we'll survive longer. They're smart and good with weapons. Plus, we have the Cornucopia if we team with them, and we'll be safe, whereas Three and Twelve will face the other dangers of the arena and will have to hide. They'll be hiding from us, and we'll be able to find them." He says.

"Safe? Yeah, except we'll be surrounded by people that can't wait to get their weapon-filled hands on us. You do realize that we'll be the first people they kill when they turn on each other, Blaze. Don't be so ignorant!" I say. He is frustrating me. Why on earth would he want to join forces with them? They're snotty, arrogant, and over-trained as well as filthy rich while the rest of us find it hard to get by.

"First of all, I'm not the ignorant one. Look in the mirror, hun. Second, the Trainees won't kill us if we prove ourselves to them. Listen, we're teaming up with them, got it? Say whatever, but my mind is made up," he says as if he's declaring it. I can stand even the thought of it. We don't have to prove ourselves to them, they'll hate us anyway, that's just how it works.

"No. You know what? Go hang out with your stupid, rich, frilly friends and have fun when they kill you!" I bark at him. I flip my plate over, splashing pink cream sauce on Blaze's face. I could have argued a bit more, but in a situation like this, one decision can completely change your fate.

"Thanks, darling, I will!" He barks back, wiping the rich sauce off of his face. I get a new plate of food and sit down with the girl from Twelve and the boy from Three.

"Hi I'm Kat, from District Six."

"Fernando, from Three." The boy says.

"Aurelia, Twelve." The girl says.

"Well, Aurelia and Fernando, I'm having a little problem with my district partner, and I was wondering if you would want to ally yourselves with me?" They nod at each other and Fernando holds out his hand for me to shake.

"Consider yourself allied." He says, I smile.

_**Allistair Winston, 18, District 7**_

It's the second day of training, and I still haven't made allies. It was my goal, because they'll help keep me alive, but to be honest, I'm not very good at making friends.

I particularly hate the Career's this year, it might just be because I'll be playing against them, but I have my reasons. The boy and girl from One are super bossy, the boy from Two is stupid and just listens to One, and both from Four are huge followers who mainly talk to each other but hang out with the others. The boy from Six has joined up with them aswell, filling the extra slot.

I'm at the knife station-my specialty-when the boy from Nine comes up to me. He's only fifteen, and he's skinny, but he's got muscle to show that he works hard on whatever he does. He looks somewhat tough, with messy light brown hair and hollow brown eyes, but I haven't been paying attention to him enough to know if he's good.

He picks up a knife and chucks it full-force at the target. It lands between the bullseye and the ring outside of it, he shrugs. I throw a knife at the same target, and it lands right on the bullseye.

"Preston, from Nine." He says, holding out his hand, wearing the same serious/tough guy/don't-mess-with-me look that seems to be my normal expression, aswell.

"I'm from Seven. Allistair." I say, shaking his hand loosely.

"I was wondering if you wanted to be allies, I mean, we're both pretty good, but alone we don't stand a chance against the Trainees." He says.

"Then it's a deal. Got anyone else in mind? I think maybe we could use some help." I'm a little more chatty than usual, but I am facing a tough situation and it seems like a smart decision.

"Yeah, the girl from Eleven. She's good with a sword. In fact, she's using one now so I need your approval." He says.

I turn to the sword station and see the girl from Eleven upstaging the trainer. She turns the sword over whichs makes a loud clinging noise and his sword topples to the ground. She puts one hand over the blade and holds it to his neck, he smiles and she does too. She drops the sword and they shake hands.

"I approve." I say.

A few handshakes, introductions, and agreements later, I have an alliance.

_**Aldo Rainn, 15, District 8**_

This is the day that could decide my fate in the games. If I could get on the side of the Trainees, I just might be able to win this thing. I rub my hands together when I see them at the knife station. I've been waiting for them to go to knives all day, and it's finally here. I arrive and pick up a big knife with a gleaming blade. Knives like these are hard to get on target, but are extremely deadly when they do.

I throw the knife casually and it lands in the center of the bullseye. I pick up another knife, inspect it, and send it flying. _Thwack!_ It landed dead in the center, again. I know this is far from enough, so I pick up two knives and send them flying toward parallel targets. Even with my skill, I'm not quite sure if I can make it, but the satisfying thwack sound tells me that I have.

Now I see them inspecting me. Both from One, the boy from Two, both from Four, and the boy from Six. Staring me down, sizing me up as casually as possible. I notice the girl from One is being extra critical, the others nod at each other but she squints her eyes and her arms remain folded over her chest.

They walk away from the knives station and I'm starting to worry, but then I notice them talking in a circle and go over to make chit chat. It's a bold move, but I have to do something. They all stand in a horseshoe shape, arms crossed over their chest or on their hips as they stare me down. They're all standing shoulder-to-shoulder and I'm standing before them in my own little space.

"Hi. I'm Aldo." I introduce myself. The boy from One is the first to respond, and it's pretty obvious that he thinks he's the leader.

"I'm Rowan. This is Topaz, Don, Lilly, Blake, and Blaze." He says, introducing the critical girl from One, the tall boy from Two who the Capitolites are swooning over, the girl and boy from Four, and the boy from Six.

"I was wondering if I could join your alliance. I'm real good with knives and I've trained for as long as I can remember."

"Okay, you're in." He says, but his district partner obviously isn't please with his choice. She slaps him in the chest with the back of her hand and gives him a wide-eyed look.

"Rowan!" She says in a hushed voice, but loud enough for me to hear. He rolls his eyes and puts his hands on her shoulders gently.

"Chill, Topaz, I know what I'm doing." He says. I shake hands with all of them and most of them give me a curt nod. I notice the boy from Four has a very firm handshake and even gives me a little smile.

Some tributes are already accepting their deaths, but I don't really see the point in accepting a fate that hasn't yet decided itself.

_**Knives Lawrence, 16, District 8**_

Training has been so fun. It's finally the thrid day, and at the end, I will show the Gamemakers all I can do. I smile as I dress in the stretchy pants and a purple v-necked shirt. I slip my feet into black and grey sneakers and pull my hair up.

I chomp on a blueberry muffin at breakfast and pretend that all of the blueberries are tributes and I'm chewing the life out of them. This game is fun. My mentor is trying to instruct us on what to do in the sesson and I tune her out. I know exactly what I will do.

Normal training continues until lunch, when we will sit in the dining room and they pull us out one by one.

I play with some fun toys, like axes and swords, and my favorite, knives. When I was young, other girls would play with dolls, but I always played with knives. They are fun.

I throw knives at bullseyes and pretend that they are the other tributes' hearts. Axes are very fun. They are much heavier, but there is much satisfaction in hearing it hit the dummy. If only it were a person. I smirk.

We are called out to lunch. I get a big plate of food and sit down. I watch all of the tributes go in until they announce for the District Eight female to come in. I smile.

Once in, I follow through with my plan. I grab an armful of fun toys, like axes and spears and many, many knives. I grab a dummy and kick it down, I plunge a long knife into its chest, and drag it all the way down the body. I take a container of some sort of red juice and pour it in all of the gashes. I paint a smile on its face, then kick it and stomp on it, smiling. I stick knives onto the painted on eyes and into the painted on smile. I tie a rope around its neck and its hands behind its mouth. Then, I throw knives around the body of the dummy, perfect to its form.

The gamemakers look slightly creeped out, and I know I was successful.

"You may now exit, Miss Lawrence," says the head gamemaker. I have one more knife, so I throw it behind my back at a target. I hear the thump.

I smile.

_**Aurelia Tyree, 16, District 12**_

I've yet to impress the Gamemakers. My blood is icy cold and I'm scared when I peel off the warm white comforter. I've already made allies, Fernando from Three and Kat from Six, but I hope I can live up to their skill, especially Fernando. I don't know what to do, even though I should have had my mind made up about now.

I dress in a dark blue v-neck shirt that has sporting technology - one of the many fancy things that the Capitol has, but seems too luxurious in Twelve. I slip into a pair of tight, stretchy black pants called leggings that go to my mid-calf and are built with the same technology, and white and blue sneakers. Everything here is so fancy and technological.

I pull up my hair into a high ponytail and head to breakfast. After gorging myself, I think through my strengths and try to think of what I will do, but nothing comes.

I work on my skills before the very nerve-wracking lunch break. I know that this can really impact how I'm percieved in these games. I want to score high, so I will get sponsors, but that will just make me a huge target of the Trainees. I could score low, but that would eliminate my chances of sponsors unless I really do kill someone. I decide to do well, because I'm not trying to hide anything.

I'm the last to go in, and I had to wait for at least an hour and a half. When I step into the training room, I know what to do.

I grab a rope and tie it to a high lamp. I arm myself with a belt of knives and swing across the long rope to the hand-to-hand section, where I flip of the rope and land with a tumble. I swiftly run across obstacle courses, leaping, tumbling, throwing knives at the pieces of foam that pop up everywhere. I jump back onto my rope and swing down to the targets, where I throw some knives.

"You may exit now, Miss Nelson," says one of the few sober gamemakers.

Oh, well, at least I made an impression on the few Gamemakers that weren't intoxicated.

**First of all, I'm sorry for the sucky updating. Second, thank you the epic bookworm for being the best reviewerw ever! Also my thanks to SakurasEdge and Beaux14 for reading even though you don't even have characters.**

**Don't forget to vote on the poll on my page! I've also decided the final two and the Victor!**

**Here are some SYOT's to read/join:**

**Seventy One Years**** by missbeccaa (I'm Audrina!)**

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**And the movie is so soon! FIVE DAYS WOO.**


	21. The Interviews

**This is the interview chapter! I'm doing one more chapter after this, which features all 24 POV's the night before the games. They will all be very short, but will reflect the characters well. I'm sorry for holding up the games, but I love the POV's the night before the games.**

_**Topaz Lexica, 17, District 1**_

Dulcinea is one-hundred percent Capitol. With skin that's been dyed to look tan, hair that's bleached to a very pale blonde with the ends of it dyed a very bright pink, and pink lipstick so bright, it hurts your eyes. She talks in a somewhat deep voice, but her Capitol accent is prominent.

"Darling, you're simply glowing. Slip this on but don't you dare look in the mirror until I've allowed it!" She says.

I slip the garment over my head, not looking at it and resisting the urge to. It's a short, tight dress, that's all I know. No sleeves, no straps. She leads me slowly to the mirror, but stops before we've got there and helps me step into glittering silver platform pumps.

When she takes me to the mirror, I close my eyes as she's instructed me to. "Open your eyes!" she says. When I do, I'm simply amazed. Pieces of honey colored hair in soft, shiny ringlets. Full red lips. Thick, voluminous black eyelashes. And the dress, lace and iridescent. It's exquisite. She slips an amazing, glittering diamond bib-necklace over my head and the look is complete.

"Oh my gosh, it's beautiful! Thank you!" I say, with a big hug.

"Not a problem darling, as long as you get down on time. Go along!" she replies. I do as she instructs and get onto the elevator. A few of the girl tributes still haven't arrived, but all of the boys are here and many of the girls are. I sit down in my assigned seat and wait while the boy from District Twelve checks me out. Oh, well. I can kill him.

"Wow. You look beautiful." Rowan says with a little laugh. I laugh back, not looking at him. He can't tear his huge eyes away from me.

I look around for a few minutes as the rest of the girls arrive, and before I know it, Xander Flickerman is introducing Topaz Lexica. Me.

He helps me into the seat. "Well don't you look wonderful, miss Lexica!" He says with a light laugh, the crowd cheers.

"Oh, Xander. Thank you. You also look incredible. Nice suit!" I say, gesturing his twinkling midnight blue suit.

"Thank you, darling. So, an eight in training! That's incredible, wouldn't you agree?"

"Thank you. I just sort of went with my instinct and I guess it worked out well!"

"It worked out very well. And oh, my. What an incredible necklace. What an incredible outfit in general! I think we should give a hand to your stylist, Topaz," on cue, the crowd erupts in cheers. Everyone always likes the trainees. Our stylists take all of our already beautiful faces and make them even more beautiful. We use our skill in the arena to kill like there's no tomorrow - which there may not be.

"Her name is Dulcinea. My outfit is incredible! Thanks to Dulcinea and my prep team!" I call out. Everyone is instantly charmed by me, such a sweet girl.

"Well, Topaz, I would love to keep talking to you, but unfortunately you're time is up. Round of applause for Miss Topaz Lexica!" says Xander. The buzzer gives a little, 'ding!' He lifts up my hand and I curtsy, giving the audience a sugar-coated smile. I head back to my seat. Interviews: check.

_**Fernando Sasquilla, 18, District 3**_

"My gosh, Fernando. You'll look dashin'," says my grotesque stylist, Sergio. I clench my teeth. I couldn't like this man if he were six and a half feet tall and all muscle. I glance in the mirror, and I must admit that even though I hate this man with burning passion, he's managed to make me look very good. A crisp white shirt with the sleeves rolled, and the cuffs are gold. Long, dark black trousers and a gold belt. Leather shoes with gold accents. My hair is slicked and in a nice style. Sergio pushes me into the elevator and I zip down so fast that I'm barely holding lunch down.

Then Xander Flickerman is calling Fernando Sasquilla.

_Can't be that hard, Fernando. The Capitol loves flamboyance and you've got a ton of that._

So I jog down the shiny black steps to the interview platform and wave and smile as I do. The crowd starts screaming and I flash a bright smile. I make myself comfortable in the chair and settle down as the crowd falls silent.

"What a nice get-up Fernando! I think your stylist deserves a round of applause!" Xander says. I smile and clap for stupid Sergio.

"Thanks, Xander. I wish I could wear your outfit!" I say.

"Oh, this old thing?" He jokes. I point at him and give a genuine laugh. Not so hard. "So Fernando, what did you think of the Quell idea?"

"Well, I've never hated the games," I lie, "I thought the twist was just perfect and would just make the games _that_ much more interesting," I say. Lies. Lies. These are all lies.

"Oh, yes. I can see why you thought so. And now that you're a tribute, what do you think?" He asks. Damn. Tough question.

"Well, I think the games will be quite interesting! But the Capitol is just so lovely. I mean, Xander, do you see all of these beautiful people?" I ask. Just the perfect touch of flamboyance. Those few words will earn me an unimagineable amount of sponsors. The audience goes wild.

"Oh, yes they are all so wonderful. How do you all like Fernando?" Xander asks the audience. They all start screaming. An I just give a whole-hearted laugh.

"Aww. I love you all too!" I yell, and blow a kiss out. This sends the audience berserk.

Xander gives a good laugh and the buzzer rings. "Ladies and gentleman, Mister Fernando Sasquilla!" finishes Xander. I flash a smile and return to my seat.

_**Gena Rouge, 18, District 3**_

"Gena, you look beautiful," says Philippe, my stylist. I stand in front of the mirror and look at the girl staring back at me. He's right. But all of the smokey makeup and the amazing beige gown cannot mask the evil girl who wears it. I can feel my face go pale and I cannot speak. Philippe senses something wrong. "You should get downstairs, now, Gena," he says quietly, his Capitol accent just barely there. I just nod and walk out with a simple, "Thank you."

I can't help that I imagine killing the other tributes immediately when I look at them. So I keep my head down and don't say anything. Allies are chatting, laughing, showing each other their outifts and I sit here looking at the floor, trying to make as little human contact as possible. The black flooring is so shiny, I can see my reflection. The reflection of a beast/psycho.

"Hello, Gena! How has your stay in the Capitol been?" Asks Xander during my interview, with a bright smile. My deep eyes flutter to the floor. My victims say that they look like bottomless pits. All of the emotion shoveled out.

"Oh...it was really...great," I say nervously, staring at the floor. I'm trying to make the worst impression possible. I already got a sad excuse for a training score - a four. I make tears flood into my eyes and bite my lip: the boy from One rolls his eyes.

"So, Gena," says Xander. Oh, yes. Serious mood. I'll really crumble under pressure. I've been dying to see how it works. "What were your feelings when you got reaped? What was going through your head. We're dying to know!" he says, with a responsive cheer. When the others find out the truth, they'll know for real what was going through my head, but I must lie. I must.

As the seconds start to tick away, I force myself to blush. "I...um...I uh..." I say, my face flushing, eyes flooding with tears. "Um..." I look at floor and let the bitter tears sink down my face. I don't feel them, either. Just like I don't feel emotion. I guess the feeling of crying went away after I cried so much every single day because I turned to ice, that I just don't get the feeling anymore. "I was devestated." I barely mumble. Xander gives me a friendly pat on the back and I look up, sniffing up the tears, but the audience doesn't feel bad. They think I'll be just another bloodbath.

"But you've enjoyed a wonderful week in the Capitol!" he says encouragingly.

"Yes," I say, "I did. I truly did."

The buzzer rings and I walk back to my seat. The girl from Two snickers as I walk past her.

_**Lilly Andreckson, 14, District 4**_

I'm such a simple girl. Everyone whose ever known me knows that. This is why I don't feel in my place wearing this extravagant dress. It's ombre marine blue, with wavy silver beading. It has long sleeves and high neck, and is tight fitting, but the bottom of the skirt flows outward. It has a scooped out back and my shoes are hidden under the dress. My raven hair is all to one side of my head, and my tan face is "naturally" made up. See, most people would die to look like me right now. Seeing the other tributes' outfits, my outfit will probably be all the talk of the pregames, but I feel so odd in this dress. It just doesn't fit me at all.

Asta, one of my prep team members squeals when she sees me. My stylist, Flavia is obviously very impressed with her work. She doesn't speak, but she stares at me with this giant smile on her face. She pushes me toward the elevator. "Down ya go, sweetheart. Good luck. I'll be in the audience!" she says, barely containing a squeal. I smile at her and head down the elevator.

Everyone looks startled when they see me...I know I've literally outdone all of them. The girl from District Nine gives me an envious look. I uncomfortably sit down and wait for Xander Flickerman to call my name. It seems everyone plays up some sort of angle. Rowan, a killer. Sheek from Two does a troublemaker, sarcastic, witty. The girl from Three appears so weak, but I see right through her act. Not fooling me. I keep waiting, waiting for Xander to introduce me.

And before I know it, he does.

"Oh, my. Miz Andreckson your dress is just the most incredible thing," he says, staring down at it.

Xander takes my hand to help me into my seat, but before I sit down, I loudly say, "Thank you so much!" with a genuine, sweet smile. I give a little twirl and the audience gasps, so I blow a little kiss in the general direction. Finally, I sit down.

"So, miss Lilly. What did you feel when you first heard about the Quell twist? Did you have any idea it would be you on that stage?" He asks.

"Well, obviously not. I guess the Quell idea shocked me a bit, but to be honest, it doesn't change the game itself. There will still be twenty-four of us playing the game, same age group, an arena of course. It was honestly just the reapng, it doesn't affect the game," I say confidently.

"Well don't you think that there are reasons that these tributes were chosen?" Asks Xander.

"Yes, clearly. But in every games, there are stronger tributes, weaker tributes, middle ground. And you never really know who's who and what they're fully capable of, and although this was a Quell, I don't really think it's that far off from another normal Hunger Games," I finish.

"And do you think you know your competition well?"

"Well enough. I get a sense of who they are from the reaping to the chariots to training and of course here, but I might not ever fully know who they are. They could be hiding something. You can never be too sure of anything, Xander."

"Lilly, I think all of us can agree that you've got the looks and the brains to prove it. Miss Lilly Andreckson, everyone!" says Xander, and I know he's wrapping up the interview. I smile toward the camera as the buzzer rings and lift my skirt as I walk back to my seat.

_**Payton Cleo, 13, District 10**_

"Nice outfit, right?" asks my stylist, Sloane, who treats me like a baby.

"Mhhmm..." I say through gritted teeth. I'm wearing a grey slacks with a bright blue shirt tucked in that has some sort of shimmery pattern...ugh. It's awful. My dark brown hair is all gelled and the slick stuff is getting all over my forehead.

"Well, we should get you downstairs. Want me to come with you?" she asks, with wide eyes.

"Um...I'm fine..." I say. I rush down the elevator.

It's not until Xander Flickerman calls my name that I realize how nervous I really am. I wipe the sweat from my upper lip and my brow and walk to the interview seat, offering a shaky smile.

"Welcome, Payton. How are you?" asks Xander.

"Good, I guess," I reply.

"How are you enjoying the Capitol, son?" he asks with a smile.

"It's...uh...it's nice," I say, nodding.

"Now, what do you enjoy most about our marvelous city?" Xander asks with a grin. I smile back.

"Well everything I guess. There's good food. And showers are uh...pretty good," I say. This sends the audience into a hoot, and I don't know why, so I just look into the crowd and smile a little bit.

"Oh, classical answer! Nothing like a Capitol shower! Payton, my friend, I can't tell you how many times tributes have told me that they enjoy the showers. But I understand why you would think so," he says, patting my back. I just smile nervously.

"Really? I though I'd be the only one who's so impressed with a shower. But it's quite a jump from Ten," I say.

"Well, about District Ten. I'm sure we all know that this is where you're from. Are you missing it? Any particular friends, family?" he asks. Gosh, I hate this serious mood thing.

"Well, obviously. I just think...there's no place like home. Don't get me wrong, the Capitol's great, but I'm so used to the pastures, the green grass, the cool wind. It's a far jump," I say. It's not until now that I realize how much I really do miss home. Caesar wraps up the interview. Not only do I not stand a chance, but now I'm homesick, too.

_**Donhall Peters, 12, District 11**_

Celestia puts her hands on my shoulders as I look into the mirror.

"You look wonderful," she says, with a genuine smile. I smile back, but it looks weak. I like Celestia, but I wasn't ever much of a socializer. She understands, so she smiles again at me and sends me down to the interviews.

I know this will be a long wait, because twenty other tributes will be interviewed before me, but I'm so nervous that I just can't ignore the stirring in my stomach. I haven't eaten in hours, but I feel so full and like lunch is going to come back up the same way it went down. I could never tolerate much food. That was the only thing I was useful for back home, my parents had one less mouth to fill because I barely ate much.

When it finally is my turn, the churning in my stomach is going at lightening speed. Great. Now I'm going to puke on Xander.

I just barely make it through the interview, answering questions to the best of my ability, which is good enough. I smile to cover up my feeling of sickness. Then, Xander asks me a question that catches my attention for real.

"Donhall, what do you think is your strongest skill? What will help you most in the Arena?"

Usually, Xander only asks this type of question to people who are strong. Not to people who score fives with the gamemakers.

"I have a keen instinct. Very sharp senses," I say, trying to hide a small grin.

"So what you're suggesting, is that, you aren't one who can be snuck up on?" he asks.

"Absolutely not," I say.

My interview ends shortly after. Then I look for a place to puke.

**I'm sorry for being the suckiest updater ever! I hope you like this chapter, though! I will absolutely, most definitely have another chapter up later tonight or tomorrow! The next chapter will actually be a pre-game thoughts. I will have the first arena chapter up ASAP. I have one small problem, though. I will be in Florida for spring break staying at my grandparents house, an they do not have wifi for my cute little laptop :( I will try to write a few chapters, since wordpad doesn't requre wifi, but I will not be able to post them. when I'm coming back, I'll post the updates during our hotel stops. But also keep in mind that I might be bust for a lot of the time during my trip. I also bought The Maze Runner for my trip. It's much shorter than The Power of Six which I just finished, but I've heard only good things about it. While you're waiting for a sucky updater like me to update, join these SYOT's.**

**Berniegirl13's ****27th Hunger Games SYOT!**** (I'm Four, Caspian, and Max)**

**BeccaJoy's ****You Better Run** **(I'm Merina). BeccaJoy was previously MissBeccaaa. Okay, she's SUCH a great writer. I don't know if any of you read Seventy One Years, but it's amazing, and it's not finished, but it's just keeping me on my toes. I'm Audrina in that one, by the way.**

**Also, guys, don't forget to vote in my poll! It's still up. And while you're there, look on my profile for my tumblr's and check them out!**

**And for a good story, ready SakurasEdge's story ****Sugar, Spice and Everything Slice**


	22. The Scientist

_Nobody said it was easy, oh such a shame for us to part. Nobody said it was easy, but no one ever said it would be so hard. Oh, take me back to the start. ~The Scientist, Coldplay_

_**District One**_

She paces her room. She doesn't even remember getting out of bed but she just can't stay down. Nervous. That's what she was. _This could be the last night of my life. No, Topaz. Don't think like this. You're a career; think like a career._

She can't take it anymore. She walks out into the District One level dining/living quarters and sees her male counterpart leaning over the window seat, looking out of the window. She quietly pours two glasses of milk and assorts a plate of cookies and walks over to the big guy.

"Not even easy for you, monster?" She asks him teasingly. He gives a little laugh. The boy is nervous in the presence of the beautiful girl next to him. She doesn't know. Not yet, but he wishes she did.

"I don't know. I guess it's weird to admit I'm nervous but I kind of am," He says. Long pause. They sit there and dunk the cookies into the milk. Her next gesture surprises him \ and even surprises her. The cold, mean, beautiful Topaz Lexica gives him a hug. _He's so warm,_ she thinks. _So inviting._ The girl rests her head on his shoulder and they both know that they won't forget this moment. The girl gets a fluttery feeling. The boy's heart speeds up and she can feel it.

"Hey," whispers the girl. "We're in this together, Fightheart. You and me," she says. The girl finds herself surprised at her own words. She can feel his smile.

"You and me," he says. She smiles back.

They go back to their rooms and enjoy a wonderful sleep.

_**District Two**_

The boy who has charmed so many, who has nearly everyone on his side, who is such a wonder to look at and will have the whole cornucopia and all of the sponsors with him cannot sleep. He climbs into the shower and turns on the steaming hot water. He just sits there. He thinks about his many siblings and his sister's final words to him before he was whisked onto the train, off to the Capitol. He lets the warm rain wash his worries down the drain, where they swirl in, never to be seen again.

District Two's female tribute stares out of her window at the bright city lights, at the party going on all the way down on the candy-colored street. At the city as a whole. From the beautiful, open suburban part of this place, to the colorful urban fantasy, the Capitol was not a thread short of utterly fascinating. She could see the whole city, all of the mountains dotted with yellow lights, but she dreamed of another mountain. The one separating one half of her district to the other. She always lived on the nicer side of the moutnain, in one of the clean marble houses with her loving mother. _If only..._she thought.

Set aside their apparent differences, underneath, the two from Two weren't so different after all.

They think the same thing.

_It's amazing that when you finally think your dreams are coming true, you realize that they weren't your dreams at all._

_**District Three**_

The girl sleeps soundly. She can't wait to slip sharp items into other people's bodies...she dreams of it, actually. Thoughts dancing through her head of blood slipping out of their mouths before they fall to the ground, only to see her, armed and dangerous, smiling down at them. She wasn't quite right in the head, though.

The boy, however...

He lays on his side on the warm comfy bed, eyes wide open. He knows he'll never sleep on a night like tonight. He can't clear his head. Yes, maybe the sponsors all love him, but that won't stop the tributes from harming him. He wonders, if maybe if he wasn't in this situation with the others, would they all be friends? He remembers the last stanza of a poem, a very old one. _The Man He Killed..._the boy thought

_Yes; quaint and curious war is!_

_You shoot a fellow down_

_You'd treat, if met where any bar is,_

_Or help to half a crown._

_**District Four**_

They both have the same plan, but do they know?

Yes, yes, a tribute does it almost all of the time, sometimes getting caught in the process, but they were both good liars. Very good liars. Smart, too.

_I need a trident._ He thinks. _A good trident and some food and some weapons. I can fish for the rest of it._

_I don't really give a crap if he needs the trident, I need it more. If there's more than one, we're lucky. If there isn't, it's mine. I deserve it. I need to win. _Thinks the girl.

But then they both remind themselves that this is much more than a game.

_Much_ more.

_**District Five**_

The boy-he cries himself to sleep knowing that he won't make it much farther than the bloodbath. He doesn't want his family and his one friend to see him die on television, but as much as he hopes they don't, he knows that there is _zero_ chance he's coming home.

The girl, though, she has courage. She's sharp, brave, powerful, underestimated. She knows that she can do this. And though it seems that she's in complete darkness, she sees the light at the end of the tunnel. And then she _knows. _ She knows for sure that there is still hope for her. There is still a chance, but it is a risk. And it's a risk that she's willing to take.

_**District Six**_

A fight.

Yes, a fight.

And they would never admit it, but they miss each other. They want to be allies again. Not just allies, friends. But there isn't any going back now. They both made deals that they aren't going to back out of.

He feels guilty. _You screwed up. She'll make your life hell, Blaze. These are the kind of people that you choose as friends, people that are big toublemakers and hold grudges. Why do I like people like that? _ And soon he realizes why. Because he's one of them.

She yearns for those precious few days. They befriended each other instantly, because they were so...alike. She didn't realize it, though, and neither did he. They knew that it wasn't good to have friends in a place like that, but she couldn't shake the bond they had. _Oh, no. What did I do? He's with the trainees! They don't take apologies._

Oh, how bad both of them needed a friend. They needed each other.

_May the best win._

_**District Seven**_

She realizes how crucial this is. She still doesn't have a game plan. She sits up in bed, eyes wide open.

_Alone._

_I'm alone and I'm weak...at least I think I am._

And she can only get one other thought through her head.

_I'm screwed._

But he was feeling a little bit better. He was finally good at something. _Finally._ All his life, he had been used to the worst. He was poor. No one but him could take care of his precious little sister. _I hope Parvarti helped her. I really hope._ It was really funny, though. He was always worrying about his sister, but he was the one who was in danger. But he wouldn't let it take him. He wouldn't let death descend on him. He simply wouldn't allow it. Especially if it was for _her._

_I will prevail. I will prevail._

He crosses his fingers.

_**District Eight**_

She appears so evil, so cold. But that's not who she is.

_I am just a girl. I come from District Eight. From the community home._

She just wanted people to stay out of her way. But now she is percieved as some psycho robot that was born to kill. And she will not tolerate that label.

_Label. It is simply a label._

There's one thing, though, that no one yet knows. A power, a talent, even. Manipulation is her weapon. It was something that she knew axes and swords cannot overpower. She has a power over people...and she's addicted to using it.

_Psycho? Please. That was so last year's male from 10._

She smiles.

He is content.

He's with _them._

He's in the wolf pack. And he's no longer some outsider...he's a wolf.

_Watch out. _He thinks. _I bite._

_**District Nine**_

The girl...she is so ignorant.

She sleeps soundly, convinced that she won't be killed because she is so pretty.

Check again, dollface.

Beauty is only skin deep. It does not cover a bad personality. It will absolutely not make anyone have second thoughts about killing her in there.

He is discouraged.

He is strong. And his allies are strong. And he got a good score. And he made a good impression.

Even those who are so powerful...they get discouraged, too.

_**District Ten**_

Who is she? She's a girl from District Ten. A girl with a family. A girl who shoots arrows into a tree during her free time. A girl who's usually annoyed.

But she's not just that. She refuses to let a few simple words define her. She is so much more, but who's going to realize that? Because as much as she hates letting something so small define her, the only thing she feels like she is now is a misunderstood person. But that's only one of the many things.

And with her life on the line, how is she going to make anyone realize that? She wants to be remembered. She wants to be unforgettable. She wants to make a mark.

But it's harder than it seems.

The boy...he is so convinced that he won't last a minute. One may call him pessimistic, but he's facing the truth, and the truth isn't always dusted in sugar.

_**District Eleven**_

Oh, how she longs for home.

Green fields. The sweet smell of fruit. The Mockingjays singing from the orchards. Jamie's light, sweet voice. Torren's sense of humor. How Chase could beat anyone at soccer. Sam's laugh. She missed it all.

The sweet thoughts...they lull her into sleep.

He seems to be already accepting his fate, a quick death. But as he sighs over his own lost life, something flickers inside him, spreads warmth through his veins and through his still-pounding heart.

_Hope._

_**District Twelve**_

Aurelia Tyree sits up in bed, realizing what's really just happened to her. The last week-it was a surreal blur, but now, the grim, icy air of the night has slapped her in the face and she realizes that her life is hanging by a thread. She stares at her hands before bringing them to her face and exhaling in a stressed-out manor. _This isn't going to be easy,_ she thinks, _but I think I just might be able to win this. With luck._

Leo Tyler is wondering if he can charm someone into keeping them from killing him. _Manipulation._

But then he remembers how hard it actually is to manipulate people. It isn't something that you can just try and hope for the best, it takes skill, and he's afraid that he doesn't have much of that.

_There's no going back, tributes. Now or never._

**Enjoy! I'm currently working on the Bloodbath...wow. It'll be tough, but I promise that you will no be disappointed!**

**While you're waiting for that, be sure to join...**

**The 27th Hunger Games!**** by Berniegirl13 (I'm Max, Caspian, and Four)**

**and read...**

**Sugar, Spice and Everything Slice**** by SakurasEdge, for a peak inside the life of our favorite Careers.**

**Who's your favorite career? Mine are Marvel (I know he's an asshole, but I love Jack Quaid, therefore I like Marvel), Clove, and Finnick.**

**Any predictions on the Bloodbathers?** ** PM me! The poll is still open and make sure to check out my page for anything else about me!**


	23. They All Fall Down

_**The Capitol**_

Even so early in the morning, The Capitol was buzzing with excitement. Of course it was, it was the first day of the games. Children sat eagerly on their couches with their breakfasts in their laps, counting the minutes. Adults made last minute grocery trips to stock up for their parties later that night.

Lucius Templesmith and Xander Flickerman made live, pre-game announcments, going back over the tributes, their training scores, et cetera.

At nine-fifty-nine AM, they took live to the field, where the tributes would be arriving momentarily. Everyone was home with their televisons on by then.

An odd arena it was, no one recognized it, but it was quite original. An overgrown field of brown grass, with hills surrounding them on most sides. Some were right there, some were farther back. But there was one hill that had everyone's eyes on it. It wasn't the mountain's height, nor its beauty, it was the big sign on it. Though chipped and greyed, it clearly read one word: _HOLLYWOOD. _Sharp, broken fences surrounded it, and far beyond the Cornucopia, there were large houses atop mountains that overlooked much of the arena, and wide streets with dull concrete sidewalks and broken-down buildings.

One thing that everyone in the Capitol knew: this year's games would be unforgettable.

_60, 59, 58, 57, 56, 55..._and soon the countdown reached _1._

There was a moment of complete silence before all hell broke loose.

_**Blake Devon, 16, District 4**_

I leap off of my launchpad and sprint for the Cornucopia, eyeing the single chrome trident that lays on it's side, but Lilly is faster and gets there first, snatching the trident and releasing it into Caspian from Five's back, who crumples to the ground immediately. First kill.

But now she has fazed me. I've just missed a kill because of her. I grab my back-up weapon, a spear, a thrust it into Ten's chest. The next thing that happens is pretty weird. It's as if I'm frozen in time. I don't notice all of the hysteria surrounding me. All I can do is stare at this girl. The girl falls to the ground and tears run down her face. She weakly lifts a hand to touch the blood before her eyes go blank and her skin falls a sickly pale. I gulp at the sight before me. I did this. I am the only reason that this girl is dead. I didn't even know her name. Her age. And I don't know if I'll ever forgive myself.

_**Tyler Revin, 14, District 10**_

The sixty seconds before the gong make me want to puke. My stomach churns and I know that every part of me is shaking. I run off to the Cornucopia, eyeing one of the many gold bows with a matching sheath of arrows hitched onto it. That's when it hits me. I'm stuck here. In the thick of the bloodbath. No allies. No gameplan. I've been screwed from the start. That's when the spear hits my chest.

A sharp pain shakes through my body, but soon turns to numbness. I look up to see the fuzzy image of the boy from Four, looking frazzled at his own kill. My trembling fingers somehow find the slippery pool of crimson, and I stare them until my world fades into nothingness.

_The End of Tyler Revin._

_**Topaz Lexica, 17, District 1**_

I'm off my launch pad not a split second after the gong, sprinting like mad to the Cornucopia. Since I'm only the second one to reach it, I decide to paw through the weapons a little. No one would try to make a move on me. I'm intimidating, fierce, and since I'm trained, they know I can kill them a lot easier than they can kill me.

As I push aside piles of tents, blankets, nonperishable foods, waters bottles, I spot it under a pile of gleaming knives. A lethal looking black mace that has my name written all over it. As I began to wriggle it free, a searing pain rips through my shoulder blade and a drip runs down my back. I turn to see the helpless looking boy from Twelve armed with a machete. He wears a wicked smile and holds up the machete, just begging to be killed.

All of a sudden, I'm so angry at this boy. So angry that a bring my mace back so far, and with amazing force, slam it into his ribs, sending him back-flipping onto the ground. But I don't notice how heavily my shoulder has been bleeding, how deep the cut was, and I fall, my head feeling fuzzy.

Rowan, who is currently in battle, suddenly stabs Ten so hard in the back, that he falls before Rowan can pull the sword out. "Topaz!" he yells. He pulls another sword free and runs over to me. "Six, eight, grab a few first aid kits and get the hell over here, now!" he yells. Aldo and Blaze abruptly stop intimidating people and run over, arms full of kits containing who knows what.

As I start to black out, I make out Rowan grasping my hand and watching eagerly as the two try to patch me up. "You'll be fine, I promise," he says. I form one clear thought: _this boy must really care about me._

_**That unknown, unnamed outsider.**_

And so on the bloodbath went. Five lives were lost that day. Many more were wounded beyond physical repair. The girl from Nine ended with the male from Two's knife in her back...and the female from Seven was badly wounded by him. She was lucky enough to escape with a set of throwing knives, though. The boy from Four stood on guard of the Cornucopia, not being able to kill anyone else, while the female hacked away at the male from Three, injuring him, and his district partner as well.

But those who escaped weren't so safe yet. The Careers' fun has just started...no to mention the other strong tributes.

**The Dead**

_Caspian Bentley, District Five_

_Cerise Kersa Daly, District Nine_

_Tyler Revin, District Ten_

_Payton Cleo, District Ten_

_Leo Tyler, District Twelve_

**Wow, guys. Thanks for being so patient with the worst updater on earth. (ME!). I notcied lots of you aren't reading my A/N's and that kind ticks me off, sorry. Anyway, I think I'm going to give a teeny excerpt from my next chapter, titled, "Manhunt."**

_"Then I hear the footsteps. Loud as a herd of buffalo stampeding across a field. Fast, heavy footfall crushing through the brush. I turn to _(Insert name here) _and _(Insert name here) _and know that I'm not hallucenating, that I'm not going crazy. The word forms on my lips silently and my allies' stares confirm my suspicions. "__Careers,__" I whisper._

**And last of all, join, ****27th Hunger Games SYOT!**** Berniegirl13, there's like barely anyone so I suggest you join, because there are seriously good spots open and she's a great writer.**


	24. Calling Home

_**Aldo Rainn, 15, District 8**_

It turns out, I don't like my alliance too much after all. Rowan's got eyes for Topaz, but she's too ignorant to notice. Donaldio is stupid and thinks he can make up for it with looks. Blake is socially awkward. Blaze is cocky. Lilly fascinates me, though. She's small. Only fourteen years old, and couldn't be taller than 5'4, but she's fierce. She handles her trident as if it were an extension to her arm, and she's too humble to notice it. She scored a ten, the same as Rowan and Donaldio. Rowan seemed a little angry that he scored the same as a small girl like her.

We trudge up the hills to find a resting place. We were pretty slowed down due to little miss princess Topaz Lexica's injuries. I'm not a fan of her.

There are houses everywhere, but Donaldio, who only seems to know about building structures, due to his district industry, and how to charm people, disapproves them, saying that they are poorly structured.

"Do you even know what you're talking about?" Rowan asks Donaldio.

"I know just fine. Whose district industry is masonry? Not yours. I know about building structures, so if you don't want the roof caving in on your little princess, I suggest you listen to me," he says. Rowan is clearly embaressed, even though Topaz didn't hear. He instead shoots Don a look and turns back around, clutching his sword so tight that he is white-knuckled.

"How about this one?" Blake chimes in, nodding toward a large, square shaped house.

"Let me check it out," says Donaldio. He jogs up to the house and twists the doorhandle, opening the door into the large house. We take a little bit to catch up to him, but by the time we're inside, he's already deep into the house. I sit down on the shattered marble floor cross-legged, and set my backpack down next to me.

A few minutes later, Donaldio comes back to the front where we all wait. "It's good," he says. "Even has running water."

"Well did you test it for poison?" asks Topaz, sassily. He just rolls his eyes.

"I'll do it, stay here," Rowan says, patting her on the back.

Anything for his princess.

"All good," he says when he returns. "Tomorrow, we hunt for our little friends. We didn't do too well at the bloodbath. But for now, we'll take turns on the shower. I think the others are smart enough not to approach us if they see us here, but they could be miles away for all I know."

_**Sybil Jones, 15, District 7**_

Fucking moron. I don't know how I made it out of the Bloodbath but I'm just happy I did. I'm badly wounded in my stomach. I don't even know how far I am from the Cornucopia because the loss of blood is making me see things and I'm barely holding onto my thoughts.

The boy from Two got me in the stomach. It hurt at first but I've gone numb. Now it's infected for sure.

I decide to climb into a tree, as it would be safest for me up there. I choose a leafy one and pray that sponsors will be generous, but I know that no one will send me anything. I'm terribly wounded and weaponless, therefore defenseless. I check the small pack I recieved hopeful for a roll of guaze or some anti-infection medication, but find only a thin blanket with some sort of special technology and a packet of dried beef, as well as a multi-purpose pocket knife.

I set myself safely into the tree and lay my blanket over me. If this is a low point, it must get better soon. I'm holding onto that little ounce of hope inside of me and praying that it will prevail.

_**Ali Balaqua, 15, District 11**_

I've really grown to like Preston and Allistair. I feel like they're my brothers. But I'd never know how that felt seeing as I had no brothers. Except for Teddy. But we honestly didn't talk much. And he wasn't my realy family, anyway, he was step-family.

We decide to pitch our tent in a woodsier area. We're all from outdoorsy Districts so it just seems so natural to us.

But the way this feels with my new friends brings back memories...the best memories ever. Back in District Eleven, during harvest when we have no school, Jamie, Chase, and Torren and I used to always camp out and watch the stars. The thought brings tears to my eyes so I shake it off.

We chat mindlessly for a few minutes before a teary-eyed Preston chimes in. "Do you guys miss home as badly as I do?" he asks, "We barely got by, but I miss it," he says. He stares at us intensely, and I know he must really be in pain. Allistair's facial expression even gets softer, and he's hard as a rock and ice cold.

"Terribly. I miss it terribly. Everything I look at reminds me of home."

We both then notice that Allistair is glassy-eyed, gazing up at the stars. Not saying a word, biting on his lip. "How do you cope with it, Allistair? Don't you miss home? You don't have to cover it up. We're your friends," says Preston, who's voice is cracking and has tears running his face. It takes looking at him to notice the tears streaming down my own face.

"Because I know that I'm under the same stars as my beautiful little sister. I would always watch the stars with her. It was one of the few things I enjoyed. I loved to see her happy," he says, still gazing at the sky. He points at a glimmering star to the east, "That one's her favorite. That's our star."

We're all in tears now. And there's no hiding it. If we're going to cry like children, so be it. That's who we are. Children. Held against our will to slaughter each other. But no matter how they manipulate us, they will not rob us of our innocence. We aren't here by choice. It doesn't matter to me anymore if I leave this place dead or alive, but I sure as hell want to leave with my dignity.

**I'm sorry if this chapter feels rushed! It sucks, I know. Except for Ali's piece at the end, really. So, anyway, I know I'll probably get a lot of hate for this, but I kind of love One Direction...not just for their music but for their personalities. Fame hasn't changed those boys one bit. I'd like to thank Kurt, SakurasEdge for being so helpful to me! Please R&R his story! And keep joining Berniegirl13's SYOT!**


	25. Lips Sealed

_**Donhall Peters, 12, District 11**_

If I could be anywhere in all of Panem now, I would be in an orchard. I swear, they're the most beautiful things I've ever seen. Ever better than the fancy District Six train. Even better than the star-studded Capitol.

I have no weapons. I'm defenseless. I'm still not hungry, though. I don't have a trace of supplies on me. I lay down on the roof of a house that I climbed up the side of. It has funny slots in it, where I could fit my tiny hands and feet. The climb winded me, but laying in the sun up here is nice. It reminds me of laying in the orchards with Elie, my...well not friend. She wasn't a very reliable friend. She didn't want to be seen with me in public and only really hung out with me because she felt bad for me, but she was the closest thing I had to a friend.

With the sun shining on my face, I find my self deep in euphoria. I never realized how..._good_ it felt to be happy. Probably because I never really was all too happy. For a moment, I feel the best that I've ever felt all my life. I close my eyes and _enjoy_. Something I've never been able to do before.

I hear footsteps, barely there, though. Swift and at a perfect pace, almost rythmic. I look up to see a tall figure with porcelain skin, long, straight raven hair, and dark eyes. She's pretty, very pretty, I would say. She doesn't look like much of a killer, especially with such doll-like features, but she holds a long scary knife like it was made to fit her hand.

She eyes me and gives me a sadistic smile. "Well, aren't you asking to be killed?"

"Begging, actually. Are you going to come up or should I come down?"

"Your choice. But maybe you should come down. The blood is easier to cover up on grass rather than that bright white stuff. And I'm going to need to keep my secret in this hellhole," she responds, confidently. This was not the weeping girl at the tribute interviews. This was a killer.

"I'll be down soon. But let me position myself before you come at me. I'll tell you when," I say.

"Sure, fine," she says with a shrug.

As I climb down, I realize what I'm doing. And I know I'm doing it for a reason. All of those years of feeling worthless haven't paid off. There was nothing I could do about it. All of the people in my district, the ones who hated me because of my problem, I wanted them to know that I was worth something. I was a person, too. Even if they didn't treat me like one.

I jump to the ground. "Can you please make it painless? I've had such a good day. You wouldn't want to ruin, it, would you?" I say, smirking. I become aware that this is the only time in my life I've ever smirked. "I want to die happy. I want to die looking happy, too," I say. I settle myself on the ground, hands behind my head, smiling. From a few yards away, she walks over.

"Whatever floats your boat. I'm Gena, just to let you know. Because you want to know the name of the person who killed you, obviously," she smirks. "You ready?" she positions herself.

"One," I say.

"Two," she responds.

"Three."

In one quick motion, she plunges the knife into my chest. There is a tingle of pain before I go numb, the sharp taste of blood in my mouth is the last thing I sense until all I've ever known of the world slips away from me.

_End of Donhall Peters._

_The canoon booms through the arena at 5 AM that morning, waking some of the tributes from their slumbers...if they were lucky enough to get sleep. The arm of the hovercraft descends to reach the boy with the blood-crusted smile._

_**Dawn Swift, 14, District 5**_

A cannon boom startles me from my sleep. I wake with a start, my head flying upward only to bash into the top of the bar table that I'm sleeping under. Too fucking tall. "The most wonderful way to start your day," I mumble sarcastically, only to check over my shoulder a moment later to reassure myself that no one is here.

I slept in a bar on one of the big streets. Some of the side walks have crushed pieces of marble with stars on them. They say words but they are far too crushed to make out what the words actually say. I laid down a pillow I got from the cornucopia that came with a small rolled op futon and think of a plan. Should I leave the safety of this bar? I have food, water, and this nice bow and arrow. But hunting seems stupid when the arena is a city. The gamemakers have probably hidden food everywhere.

I lift myself from the safety under the bar table and check outside of the windows. Not a soul. I make my way around the broken tables and upside-down chairs to find a back room with a door broken in half.

But when I enter, I immediately realize that this is not part of the bar that I'm hiding in. This room is all Capitol, with a shiny silver floor and matching walls. That's when I see it.

Pantries stuffed with food. Two large refrigerators humming with electricity. There's enough food in this one room to keep every tribute in the arena full for days. I approach the fridges and the pantries without a second thought or even a single doubt.

A moment after I pull the shiny black handle back, revealing the insides of the fridge, I'm blown backward into the air.

_**Aurelia Tyree, 16, District 12**_

It's rare that anyone from District Twelve ever makes it past day one, but before I get too cocky, I'm proud of myself for being here. Breathing. Only now do I realize what a gift it is to be breathing. I'm stil amazed at how far I've made it. I guess growing up on the grimy streets of the Seam has taught me a thing or two about survival. One: when you hunt, the hungry will always beg for a share of game, shake them off by taking your weapon out to polish. Two: some days, you will go hungry, so instead of whimpering, take it like a man. You waste the stored up energy from your last meal doing something pointless. Three: always keep a sharp eye out for pursuers. You never know who you can trust.

But yet I still feel so close to Kat and Fernando. They're good _friends,_ not just allies. And I'm in no position to pass up friends. I've never had one before. I keep my mouth shut during school and do my work during lunch break. I've probably killed twenty percent of the meat we eat at lunch, when I sell it to the butcher and the butcher sells it to the school.

We sit together, legs crossed on a mountainside facing away from the Cornucopia. And man, you can see everything from here. I know my stuff about mountains, considering I live surrounded by them. These two were not so lucky, living in those districts where the district industry is all indoors, or very techy. I can see they don't know very much about the outdoors, but they handle weapons decently, and that's a big chunk of the game.

I throw the last piece of firewood that I scavenged into the stack. Fernando furrows his brow as he tries to light a match but ends up breaking the match. Kat snatches it from him and strikes it roughly against the sandpaper. As it sparks into a flame, she becomes scared and squeals, tossing it onto the firewood.

"At least you didn't miss," I say, popping a berry into my mouth. Fernando lays a spit over the fire and I put my cleaned and plucked turkey over it.

"And you're sure that no one will see the smoke?" Fernando asks.

"We climbed up a mountain and down the other side. Most of the others travelled west-we saw them. We're too far down the mountain to be seen. By the time the smoke is high enough, it will all have already faded," Kat nods, but she seems confused.

Two days in the arena, going on three. Allies are fun, but not always reliable. They're clueless about the ways of nature and it's not so easy teaching them. I know I'll have to get away, but I'm still a little bit attached. I watch as Kat struggles to flip the turkey, and when the flames rise up a bit, Fernando jumps back a little. I stifle a laugh and pop a berry into my mouth.

**Hey guys! So I hope you liked this chapter. The last POV may be a bit boring but it just can't be, "ALL OF YOU FREAKING DIE!" in every chapter, so I need to tone it down a bit. I'm honestly letting this story write itself. I'm trying really really super hard to make this the best it can be. Anyway, I've put up a new story called "Torn" which I really hope you like. It's based off of the One Direction cover of the song Torn. It's honestly amazing. You guys should go listen to it...and R&R my new story. So I know what you're thinking, "Ew, One Direction? But guys, I love them. They are honestly so talented. I've heard all of their voices without this or that and autotune, and that's what's going on in Torn...no song lyric quoting intended...in the meantime, please keep submitting characters to Berniegirl13's SYOT (You guys were super great about that, xox), and read BeccaJoy's story Dead Hearts, a sequel to Seventy One years, about my very own character, who's name will not be mentioned if you're going to read Seventy One Years before you read Dead Hearts (which would be a good idea). So, uh, yeah. And I would be so, so honored if you R&R'ed Torn. Enjoy!**


	26. On the Verge of a Complete Meltdown

**Well, here you have it. A completely overdue, and probably very unstatisfying (considering how long you've waited for it and how short it is) new chapter of To Kill a Mockingjay.**

_**[**__**On the Verge of **__**a Complete Meltdown]**_

_**Blake Devon, 16, District 4**_

The shuffling footsteps were probably what woke me up. Curse of a light sleeper, but everyone else was still sound asleep, snoring away.

They were perfectly paced. Not uneven. Equal time between each frantic step. I slowly lift my head, ignoring the foul taste in my mouth.

Lilly. Pacing back and forth and back and forth and pulling her hair. Why her, of all people? The girl who has managed to shock us and impress us and make us envy her and any other adjective that goes with those few. Why is she the one to be going nuts? Like I said, she has it all. When it comes to talent, that is. I don't know much of her, even though we come from the same place. District Four is big.

I slowly lift my head, and she snaps her head around so fast that I think I might have heard her neck crack.

"Blake. Good. I'm happy it's you and not...ugh. Can you help me, Blake? Please. PLEASE," she begs. I don't know whether I should be confused or flattered at her request for _my_ help.

"Um...okay? What is it?" I ask.

"I need to get out of here. And I need you to come," she says. I take a moment to register my shock before responding.

"Alright, sounds good. I'm in. We need to get the fuck out of here, I agree," I respond, shocked at the confidence in my own voice. Her lips form a smile stretching from ear to ear and she hugs me tightly. I akwardly hug back, confused at not only her excitement, but my choice as well.

We get some stuff together. A few bags filled with some packs of assorted throwing knives, some spear shafts and tips, loads of food, fish bait, and of course, the one magnificent trident. The one that I know both of us were drooling over those few precious moments before our personal hell began.

"You ready?" she asks as we stand by the door of the rather large house.

"Ready," I respond.

I open the door without hesitation and we both walk out, holding two packs each, going in a completely different direction than our so-called "allies" were planning on. Not going back. We can't. Not now.

_**Knives Lawrence, 16, District 8**_

I sharpen my knives furiously. No kills. Not yet.

The boy from District Eleven who hardly made it out of the bloodbath died yesterday. I wonder if it was the Careers and their perfect little killer pack. Gross.

I take my anger out on the knife sharpening. My anger that I've got zero kills. My anger that this year's games suck so badly.

Then, when the knives are so impossibly sharp that they won't sharpen anymore, I take my anger out on the wall of the building I'm inside of

The first knife makes a loud thunk against the wall, hardly satisfying me. I let go of another. Another. And a couple more.

Or so I thought.

Because soon, all of my knives are gone.

That's when I begin to wonder if it's my kill list that I'm mad about, or my situation in general. Because quite frankly, this is really fucking awful. It cannot get much worse, can it?

Because let's not forget that this year, Knives Lawrence was voted into the Hunger Games. After that, she was sent to the Capitol to be all prissied up. Then after she was prissied up and paraded around the over-the-top, disgusting, fat, annoying-voiced Capitol, she was thrown into a big room full of weapons where people ranked how good she was. And Knives Lawrence hates, more than anything in all of Panem (except for maybe the Capitol), to be ranked. Having people tell me how good I am is that one thing that I could never stand.

But let's not forget the interviews, no. Why don't they all go and exploit me to all of Panem as someone that they can name in one personality trait. Meanwhile, people who don't know shit about me can go act like they know all there is to know about Knives based on three minute's worth of pointless question.

And that's why I'm_ really _angry.

**Okay, I got a lot done in this chapter. I apologize for my laziness. First of all, I'm addicted to Tumblr, second, it's almost summer, third, I'm stressing over my last few projects and my finals studying. But also last May 31st-June 1st were taken over by my school's over-night field-trip to Boston for my grade. Mix that with my birthday, which was just on Thursday an awful case of writers block, and well-wasted time fangirling over One Direction, and that's why I haven't updated. And I'm super extremely sorry.**


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